Eye of the Beholder
by theshadowcat
Summary: Sometimes beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Set after X3 w spoilers galore. Please Read & Review. BeastOC Please note new rating.
1. Not Guilty

**Author's Notes I**: Hey there! This is my first X-Men fan fic, though not my first story by a long shot. This story is set right after the X-Men 3 movie and will contain several spoilers, so if you haven't seen the movie, you probably shouldn't read this. While this story will have a romance between an established character and an OC, I will endeavor to make my OC as un-Mary Sueish as possible. This story will have drama, action/adventure, angst and romance with a little comedy for flavor and while it is currently rated as a T, the rating will go up in later chapters, just so you know. I am a review junkie, so please leave one when you're done reading.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of it, never have, never will. Mores the pity, but that's my lot in life.

* * *

At Xavier's School for the Especially Gifted, all of the students and staff are gathered in the recreation room. They sit on chairs, couches, the floor and at least one hangs from the ceiling. Not a sound is made by anyone, the teasing, gossiping and general chit chat is non-existent as they all watch the only thing making a sound. The TV has everyone's attention as they stare transfixed at the device, waiting for a jury of probably non-mutants to decide the fate to a sixteen year old mutant who is charged with man slaughter.

* * *

Serena Song sits in the courtroom, staring at her hands and scared out of her wits. She tries not to fidget as they wait for the judge and jury to finally make an appearance and decide her fate. She takes a shuddering breath and furiously blinks back the tears threatening to form as she thinks back to that night that seems a lifetime ago.

* * *

Serena was cold, alone and hungry like so many homeless people that night. A mere three weeks ago she had had a home. She had had a family. Unfortunately, a secret that she had kept hidden for over four years was revealed and she suddenly found herself out on the streets on her own. 

She tried staying with friends, but her parents had been busy calling their parents and poisoning their minds against the petit, dark haired girl. Doors were closed in her face, one after the other until she was forced to try and find a homeless shelter only to find that they were full and no matter how hard she tried, she could never seem to get there early enough to get a spot. So there she was in Central Park trying to stay warm despite the howling wind that night in March, pan handling for pocket change in hopes of getting a burger at the greasy dive down the street.

She had just managed to get a buck twenty off of a couple in pocket change and was feeling pretty good about it when she saw them. There were three of them and they looked like walking brick walls to her. They were obviously football players from the look of their nice warm letter jackets and pretty well to do if the rest of their clothes were anything to go by.

She made a mistake right then. She hesitated. She knew they could afford to throw her a couple of bucks, maybe even a twenty, but they were big, strong, young men and they might look on her as more of something to play with instead of someone to pity. She watched them as they continued towards her, joking with each other as one of them carried a camcorder to document their wit.

She decided that they weren't worth the risk, but she had waited a moment too long and they saw her. She tried to blend in with the shadows, but they followed her. She ran, but they easily caught up with her.

"Lookie what we've got here, boys," the first one with blond hair and blue eyes, the all American boy said. "Looks like we found ourselves a little field mouse."

"Hey, little mousie, wanna play with us?" the dark haired boy asked mockingly.

"Go away, leave me alone," she yelled as she backed away from them.

"Little mousie doesn't want to play," Blondie pouted and the other two easily out maneuvered her. "I think little mousie should play with us. Don't you, guys?"

The other two laughed as they started making lewd comments and kissy noises at her while she desperately looked around for help. One of the boys moved towards her and she made her break for freedom in the hole that was made. They quickly gave chase across the park, the boys laughing and jeering all the way.

She tried to turn one way that she knew would lead to the street and the safety of people but she found her way blocked by one of the thugs so she turned the other way. She ran for her life, yelling for help, ignoring the burning in her legs from muscles that weren't used to that activity. She made another turn and realized too late that they were herding her here. It was a dark and quiet part of the park, completely cut off from the rest of the world and she knew there was no way out.

"Please, just leave me alone," she begged, her heart pounding so hard she could barely hear them snickering.

"But we want you to play with us, mousie," Blondie said in a fake sad tone.

"Please, I don't want to hurt you," she sobbed as she backed up into a stone wall.

The boys all laughed as they moved in closer, Blondie shrugging out of his jacket and carelessly tossing it aside before reaching for the fastening of his pants. She continued to plead with them; she really didn't want to hurt them. She really didn't. But they didn't listen. They just didn't listen.

* * *

"It's going to be ok," a quiet voice assures her, startling her out of her memories. 

"How can you be so sure?" Serena demands in a hushed voice, her nerves beyond shot as she looks up into the light green eyes of her lawyer.

"Because it's a clear case of self defense," is the calm reply. "The video showed them that."

"But what happens if they find me guilty anyways, Miss Simon?" Serena asks, barely keeping her voice down in her nearly panicked state as tears threatening to spill down her face.

"Amanda," Amanda gently corrects while pushing a facial tissue into the distraught girl's hand. "Then we appeal and we keep fighting this until we find a jury that has some common sense."

Before Serena can say anything more, the jury files into the courtroom and takes their seats. Serena's gaze drops back into her lap as she nervously shreds the tissue into about a million pieces. A moment later, a door beside the judge's bench opens up and the bailiff enters the room, taking his position next to raised seat and desk.

"All rise," the bailiff calls out a moment later and the very full courtroom comes to their feet. "The honorable Harold T. Stone presiding."

An older man in billowing black robes with a no nonsense attitude strides into the room and steps up behind his bench. He briefly looks around and a slight scowl creases his brow when he sees the cameras crowding the back of the court. With a disgusted sigh, he takes his seat.

"You may be seated," Stone orders and the sound of people retaking their seats fills the room for the next several moments. "Foreman, I understand that the jury has reached a verdict?"

"We have, your honor," a man in his mid-thirties replies after coming to his feet.

"The defendant will please rise," Stone states, glaring down on Serena from his perch.

"Yes, sir," Serena whispers as she shakily gets to her feet, Amanda standing beside her.

"And what is the verdict?" Stone asks after turning his attention back to the juror's box.

"We the jury, find Serena Diana Song…," the foreman answers, "…not guilty on all charges."

There's an uproar from the gallery that's a combination of some cheering, lots of booing and several cries of anguish. Stone lets it go for a few seconds before he starts banging his gavel and demanding order in the court.

It takes Serena several moments before the news sinks in. She turns to Amanda to confirm what she's heard and sees a huge grin on the attorney's face. With a cry of happiness, she throws her arms around the taller woman's neck. With gut wracking sobs, she lets the tears she's been fighting come, but now they're tears of joy.

* * *

In upstate New York, nearly fifty people are screaming and cheering as a black woman with white hair looks over at the muscular man standing next to her with hair nearly as wild as he is. He answers her grin with a lopsided smile of his own just before she leads him out into the hall where it's slightly quieter. 

"Shall we go get our new student, Logan?" she suggests.

"Sure," he replies with an indifferent shrug. "Not like we're going to get any work out of that lot for the rest of the day."

As people are still high fiving and hugging each other in the recreation room, Storm and Wolverine head for the garage. When they get there Logan immediately heads for a blue sports car while Storm moves towards a silver Mercedes. They both stop and stare at one another for several seconds.

"Come on, Logan," she says as she waves her hand towards the sedan. "I think the girl has been through enough. Don't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he growls, eyes narrowing.

"That perhaps your…enthusiastic…driving might be more than she can handle right now," she replies with a smile. "Besides, there's barely any room in the back seat."

He glares at her for nearly a minute before giving in and heading towards her and the Mercedes. Grumpily, he climbs into the passenger seat, slamming the door closed with a bit more force than is really necessary.

"Gently please, Logan," she softly admonishes. "This was the professor's favorite car."

"Sorry," he mumbles, slouching down in his seat.

"I suppose asking you to put your seat belt on is pointless," she hints and his only response is to give her a full blown glare. "Right."

She fastens her own seatbelt with a small shake of her head. Without another word, she opens the garage door with the remote, starts the car and pulls out of the garage into the late morning sun.

"Why do you think she did it?" he asks as they make their way to the interstate.

"Because she could," she answers with a shrug. "I asked her the same thing and that's all she'd tell me."

No more is said and a few of hours later, they wind their way through Manhattan's business district trying to find a parking space. They drive past a building with a hoard of reporters and cameras in front of it and Logan narrows his eyes at them.

"Let me guess, that's it," he states as he nods his head towards the crowd that's partially blocking the sidewalk.

"Yeah, I'm afraid so," she sighs. "She warned me that they'd probably be here."

"So that's why you brought me along," he grumbles. "Jean and Scott would have been better for this job."

"Except that they're dead," she points out.

"You don't have to remind me," he growls.

Nothing more is said and they finally find a parking place a few blocks away. They get out, pay the meter and head down the street. A short time later they're shouldering their way through the crowd of reporters who don't bother trying to stop them, though they don't exactly get out of the way. A look from Storm is all that keeps one camera man from getting turned into lunch meat as the two mutants make their way to the front door.

Once inside, they head past a receptionist's desk and around the corner to a bank of elevators. They take one to the twenty-first floor and quickly head down the hall after getting off to an office with the words _Jones and Steele, Attorneys at Law_ written on the door. Storm goes through the entrance, barely breaking her stride with Logan in her wake. They find themselves in a small waiting room filled with nice if a bit old furniture and a large reception desk with a fairly pretty woman sitting behind it and the name Betty is on the name plate.

"May I help you?" Betty asks, her eyes lingering a little too long on Logan.

"We're here to see Ms. Amanda Simon," Storm replies as she stops before the desk.

"Do you have an appointment?" Betty inquires.

"No, but she's expecting us," Storm answers.

"May I ask your names?" Betty questions as she reaches for her phone.

"Ororo Munroe and Logan," Storm responds patiently, though Logan is starting to fidget.

Betty nods her understanding as she punches a few buttons on the phone. She talks briefly with whoever answers on the other end and then hangs up.

"Please have a seat," Betty instructs, waving her hand towards the chairs. "Someone will be with you shortly."

* * *

By the time a motherly older woman arrives through a door in the back of the room to show them back, Storm has flipped through several magazines and Logan is trying to wear a hole in the carpet with his pacing. 

"Ms Munroe? Mr. Logan?" the older lady questions and the two mutants both nod. "Please follow me."

"This is your idea of a short wait?" Logan nearly growls as they're lead down a hallway.

"I'm afraid Miss Simon has been in a meeting with Mr. Jones and Mr. Steele," the woman replies.

Before Logan can say anything else, they come to a room furnished with only a desk and chair in the middle of the area. There are three doors leading out of the room, one set in each wall. There are name plaques on each door and the woman leads them to the one that has Amanda Simon's name on it. She opens the door and waves them in.

"Miss Simon will be with you in a moment," she tells them and then shuts the door.

The office is smaller than Storm thought it would be as she quickly looks around. There's a good sized desk that seems to be too big for the room with a nice desk chair behind it and couple of armed chairs in front. A couple filing cabinets are next to the door and a half dead plant sits on top of them but that isn't what Storm is looking at.

Sitting in one of the armed chairs is the young woman that Storm has only seen on TV. She's still wearing the clothes that she had on in court and she's staring back at Storm and Logan like a deer caught in the headlights. Storm smiles kindly at the child and takes the seat next to hers.

"Serena?" Storm gently asks, seeing the all too familiar look of someone who's seen too much on the girl's face.

"Y-y-yes," Serena nervously responds.

"I'm Ororo Munroe and this is Logan," Storm tells her. "We're teachers at Xavier's School for the Exceptionally Gifted. We'd like to take you there, if you're willing to go."

"Amanda's been telling me about that place," Serena says, still a bit nervous. "Is it really a school for mutants?"

"Yes," Storm answers, smiling at her. "We'll teach you how to control your powers so there won't be any more accidents."

"So the next time I kill someone it'll be on purpose," Serena states sadly.

"Only as a last resort," Storm replies. "Once you have control over your powers you should be able to knock your opponent out without killing him or her."

"Really?" Serena hopefully asks.

"Really," Storm truthfully answers with a grin.

"Ok, we've got the kid, so let's get out of here," Logan grumbles, holding perfectly still like a predator waiting to pounce.

"Not yet," Storm patiently replies, smiling at the powerful man.

"Why not?" he demands.

"Because you haven't signed for her yet," a new voice says from behind him.

"Who are you?" he nearly snarls.

"I'm Amanda Simon," Amanda replies with a smile as she shuts her office door. "Sorry to have kept you waiting."

"Hi, Amanda, I'm Ororo and Mr. Personality here is Logan," Storm states to the raven haired woman.

"It's nice to meet both of you," Amanda responds, still smiling as she heads for her seat behind the desk.

"So, what's this cra…," he pauses mid word at Storm's glare. "…crud about having to sign for the kid? What is she? Some type of package? Maybe you should just stuff her in a box and mail her to us."

"We need to sign to become her legal guardians," Storm calmly explains.

"There are only a few forms to sign, but it has to be done in triplicate and there's a whole bunch of legalese to get through too," Amanda says as she pulls out a stack of papers that's at least two inches thick. "This may take some time."

"Great," Logan mumbles as he walks over to the only window in the room and stares out at the building next door. "Nice view."

"It's better than prison bars," a quiet voice replies and he looks down at Serena.

"So, what do you think about being signed over like this?" he asks. "Like you're a piece of property."

"Better than being treated like a murderer," she replies with a shrug. "Besides, it's not the first time. Amanda made my parents sign me over to the state or she was going to make them pay for her legal fees. They couldn't sign those papers fast enough. It'll be a relief when this is over. I didn't have anything when my parents threw me out. No money or clothes or a place to sleep. I didn't even have a toothbrush."

"A lot of people would have used their powers to get what they want," he says, leaning against the wall.

"I can only get my powers to work if I'm really angry or really scared," she replies.

"So how'd your parents find out?" he inquires.

"My little sister ran out in the street chasing after her ball and a car was coming," she answers as a sad look crosses over her face. "He was going too fast."

"What happened to the car and driver?" he asks.

"They had to use the Jaws of Life to get him out of the car," she replies, a sad, haunted look in her eyes. "Luckily the guy was driving a Volvo. Can't say the same for the other guys."

"They had it coming to them," he snarls.

"How can you say that?" she demands, suddenly angry. "They were people too!"

"Hey, kid, weren't you paying attention to your own trial?" he shoots back. "You wouldn't have been the first girl they raped and they more than likely would have beaten you to death like they did those others."

"That doesn't give me the right to be their judge, jury and executioner," she snaps, nearly in tears. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Yeah, I have," he growls before roughly pushing himself off the wall and stalking across the office to stare at the half dead plant.

"Don't judge him to harshly, Serena," Storm says softly. "He's been through a lot lately."

"Are we almost done?" Serena asks, not looking very happy.

"Mr. Steele will be in shortly to notarize the papers and then you'll be free to go," Amanda replies as she hangs up her phone and turns towards the teenager. "Just a little longer and you can start your new life. Nervous?"

"Terrified," Serena admits. "What if the other students don't like me?"

"Serena, you should have heard the cheering when the jury came back with a not guilty verdict," Storm tells the girl. "Everyone's been rooting for you and they're all excited to meet you."

Before Serena can say anything there's a soft knock at the door just before it's opened. A very tall man who appears to be in his late forties, early fifties comes in carrying a stamp, an ink pad and a large binder.

"Is everything ready?" the man asks, staring at Amanda with a look that's on the boarder of glaring.

"Yes, Mr. Steele," Amanda answers, unflinchingly staring right back at him.

For about the next fifteen minutes, Steele, Amanda and Storm finish up the paperwork while Serena tries not to fidget. Logan watches them through narrowed eyes as the others remain oblivious to him. Once Steele is done he quickly leaves the room without a word to anyone and without making eye contact with any of the mutants in the room.

"Charming," Logan grunts.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Steele has…issues," Amanda sadly admits.

"And you work for him?" he questions.

"I work for both him and Mr. Jones," Amanda corrects. "Luckily, Mr. Jones is a bit more…enlightened than Mr. Steele."

"We done yet?" he grumbles.

"Let's see," Amanda states as she looks at the three neat stacks of papers on her desk and hands one of them over to Storm. "This is your copy, I will hold onto a copy and I'll mail the other copy to the state."

"Thank you, Amanda," Storm says as she takes the papers and stands up. "For all that you've done."

"I'm glad I could help," Amanda smiles as she gets to her feet. "So, Serena, you ready to go home?"

"Yeah, I'm very ready," Serena grins as the tension that she's been holding onto for the past few months suddenly just melts away.

* * *

**Author's Notes II**: Ok, I know that I've written Wolverine probably a bit more aggressively than he normally is, but I refuse to believe that he could kill the woman he loves and walk away from it mentally unscathed. Again, please leave a review. It makes my muse happy. 


	2. Welcome home

Amanda gets up and goes around her desk to hug Serena goodbye while Storm picks up the small duffle bag at the girl's feet. Logan pretty much ignores them as he opens the door and steps out into the outer office. The others follow shortly and he continues on his way not bothering to check to make sure they're behind him.

A minute later they're standing outside the elevator doors and he finally casts a quick glance at the females, regretting it instantly. Serena has her arm around Amanda's middle with the lawyer's arm around the teenager's shoulders and the other hand is holding one of Storm's hands. She has a grin on her face that seems to stretch from ear to ear and the adult women are smiling nearly as widely.

"Not to kill the love fest going on, but those reporters are probably still downstairs waiting for their story," he grumbles.

"Yes, Logan, we know and we did take that into account," Storm replies. "That's part of the reason why I wanted to bring the Mercedes since it has four doors. I'll go get the car and when I drive up, you and Amanda bring out Serena as fast as you can. Then you and Serena hop in the car and we take off. Piece of cake."

"Uh huh, sure," he growls. "You expect these reporters to walk away from this experience?"

"I expect you to set a good example for our new student," she warns as the elevator doors open with a 'ding'.

"And if I don't?" he challenges.

"Then we find out how well a metal skeleton conducts electricity," she tells him in a tone that promises much pain.

Logan reluctantly follows the women into the elevator and takes up a position in the back, scowling at Storm. The tension in the small space is so thick you can practically taste it causing Serena to hold onto Amanda a bit tighter and the woman just squeezes her shoulders reassuringly. A short eternity later, the elevator doors open onto the lobby and they step out, relieved to be out of that confining space.

"They're still there," Storm confirms as she goes around the corner. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Keep your claws sheathed, Logan."

With that, she quickly leaves the building and weaves her way through the reporters who pay her no mind. Logan leans against a wall where he can keep an eye on the front door while Amanda and Serena wait around the corner. After a couple of minutes of them standing there, a security guard comes over to see what's going on and Amanda calmly explains as Logan stands there and glares at the rent-a-cop who scurries away a few moments later.

"Would you please not scare the security guard?" Amanda requests. "He's just doing his job."

"I'm supposed to play body guard to a girl who turned three two hundred plus pound football players into paste," he snarls and Serena shudders at the memory.

"Then look at it this way," Amanda calmly replies. "You're keeping the reporters safe from frightening her so much that she loses control again."

"I don't know," he responds as he scowls at the reporters on the other side of the glass doors. "World might be a better place with a few less reporters in it."

"While I agree that they're worse the nosey neighbor we had when I was a kid, killing them isn't the solution," she points out.

He mumbles something under his breath about vultures and then goes silent. He leans against a wall while Serena and Amanda quietly talk about staying in touch. Finally his gaze wanders back towards the two and his curiosity finally gets the better of him.

"Why?" he asks causing the other two to look at him.

"Why what?" Amanda counters.

"Why'd you take this case?" he questions. "I know you didn't do it for the money. So why'd you do it?"

"Because I could," Amanda answers with a smile.

"Bull," he growls. "What was in it for you?"

"Peace of mind," Amanda replies. "I couldn't sit by while an innocent girl was sent to jail for defending herself. Believe it or not, Mr. Logan, there are a few honest lawyers in this world."

"Yeah right," he snorts and turns his attention back to the front door when he hears a horn honking incessantly. "She's here. Let's go."

Amanda and Serena come around the corner and quickly heading for the door as Logan takes up a position in front of them. They barrel through the doors as the reporters rush them, sticking microphones in their faces and yelling their questions at them. Logan roughly pushes the crowd out of his way while the other two follow closely in his wake.

A reporter manages to grab Serena's arm, pulling her to a halt and making the girl yelp in surprise. The reporter asks a question that can barely be heard and then sticks the microphone in Serena's face. Before any one can so much as blink, there's a flash of light reflecting off of metal, the microphone is sliced in two and the reporter is forcefully pushed away as Logan grabs Serena's now free arm and drags her to the waiting car.

A moment later, Serena finds herself rather unceremoniously shoved into the back seat of the Mercedes with Logan landing nearly on top of her. The door is slammed shut and Storm floors it, causing the tires to squeal. Serena quickly gets herself situated into a seat and puts her seatbelt on while Logan just gets himself into a seat.

"Easy Storm, this was Wheel's favorite car," Logan teases, smirking at the woman's lead foot.

"My foot slipped," Storm replies rather testily. "Serena, have you had lunch yet?"

"No, ma'am," Serena answers. "Amanda was going to order some take out for us, but she got called into a meeting with Mr. Steele and Mr. Jones."

"We need to stop by your old home to pick up your stuff first and then we could go get lunch," Storm states as she makes a turn and nearly hits a bicyclist going to the wrong way down the street. "Or do you want to eat first?"

"Let's stop by my parent's place first," Serena answers, sounding about as thrilled with the idea as having a root canal without Novocain. "I don't want to be sick while I'm there."

"Yeah, let's get the bad stuff out of the way," Storm agrees.

"Oh, this should be fun," Logan grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

* * *

"You go, girl," Amanda snickers as Storm burns rubber to get out of there.

Turning to go back to work, she's confronted with a wall of cameras, microphones and the anxious faces of the reports desperate for a story. She spends a few minutes answering questions not to keen to stay there any longer than she has to. As soon as she sees them back off a bit, she starts to force her way through their ranks, intent on getting back to work. They don't give up easily, but eventually she makes it to the safety of the doors and gets through relatively unscathed. With a sigh of relief, she heads back upstairs to the office and walks in just as Betty hangs up the phone.

"Are they gone?" Betty asks.

"Yeah, they're gone," Amanda replies.

"Did you see the ass on that guy?" Betty nearly pants. "How can he breathe with pants that tight?"

"I've never wanted to be a piece of denim more in my life," Amanda agrees with a dreamy sigh.

"So what do you think?" Betty questions. "Boxers or briefs? Silk or cotton?"

"What if he goes commando?" Amanda inquires; trying not to laugh as the receptionist suddenly turns bright red and grabs a file off of her desk to fan herself with.

"Oh god, now I'm going to have that mental image running amuck in my brain all day," Betty moans as she slumps in her seat.

"Should I call your husband and tell him to have the champagne and chocolate covered strawberries ready when you get home?" Amanda teases.

"You coming over to baby sit?" Betty demands.

"You couldn't afford for me to baby sit," Amanda laughs.

"You'd be amazed what I'd be willing to pay," Betty replies.

"I'm not talking about money, I'm talking about what I'd do to your kids," Amanda snickers.

"What would you do to them?" Betty demands, a bit worried.

"I'd feed them candy and ice cream and sodas until they were bouncing off the walls and then I'd return them to you," Amanda chuckles evilly.

"Now that's just evil," Betty laughs.

"Yeah, but it guarantees my sister will never ask me to watch her kids again," Amanda grins.

"Don't you want to have kids some day?" Betty inquires.

"Every time I get the urge to have a baby I go spend the weekend with my sister," Amanda answers as she starts to move towards her office. "A couple of days with three kids will put the old biological clock on snooze in no time."

"You'll want them some day, trust me," Betty warns.

"God, I hope not," Amanda groans just before she disappears through the door and heads back to her office.

* * *

Several hours later, a silver Mercedes Benz makes the turn onto the road where the mansion is located. Storm reaches over and gently shakes Serena awake.

"Huh, wha…?" Serena mumbles groggily.

"We're almost there," Storm tells her and points up ahead as Serena yawns and stretches. "There are the outside walls. We'll be there in a minute."

"Oh, ok," Serena replies, suddenly getting nervous again.

The teenager watches as they get closer to the gate and her heart beats faster with every moment they draw nearer to their destination.

"Take it easy, kid," Logan grumbles from the back seat. "You're going to give yourself a heart attack at this rate."

"I'm just a bit nervous," Serena admits. "When I was in jail the girls in there were mean to me."

"Don't worry," Storm says as she slows the car to make the turn onto the gravel driveway. "These kids aren't like those girls. You'll see."

No sooner does the car come to a stop then the place explodes with bodies pouring out of the mansion. Logan cringes at the noise coming from the students as they rush the car yelling at the top of their lungs. Serena doesn't even get a chance to undo her seatbelt before one of the girls leans into the car, grabs Serena's hands and pulls the startled girl out of the car straight through the still closed door.

While Serena is still getting over the shock of being dragged through a car door, the students are introducing themselves to her. Before Logan or Storm can get out of the vehicle, Serena is herded into the mansion in the middle of the hoard of students. By the time the two adults do get out of the car, the students are long gone and the front door is closed behind them.

"Well, I think her worries about being accept are now put to rest," Storm smiles as she shuts her door and starts to head for the trunk when the car suddenly dips as if someone just got in. "Hello, Kurt, did the kids behave themselves?"

"_Guten abend_, Ororo," Nightcrawler greets from his perch on the roof of the car. "Vell, they did not burn down the mansion, though I vould not go into the kitchen if I vere you."

"I'm not cleaning up their damn mess," Logan growls as he steps towards the back of the car.

"Don't worry, I'll make them clean up the mess," Storm assures him as she opens the trunk of the car. "I think that will be their project for tomorrow since they didn't do any school work today."

"Vould you like some help?" Kurt asks as he suddenly appears between Storm and Logan.

"Yes, please," Storm answers. "Would you mind taking these boxes up to Kitty's room? I'll have Serena bunk with her for now."

"Certainly," the blue mutant replies with a smile for Storm as he grabs the first box and disappears in a cloud of wispy smoke.

"Great, now that's taken care of, I'm out of here," Logan growls as he starts to walk away from the mansion.

"Where are you going?" Storm asks.

"Away from the noise," he calls back over his shoulder.

Storm pauses to listen and even she can hear the ruckus the kids are making. With a sigh, she shakes her head and starts towards the house in hopes of restoring something that resembles control. As she steps through the door, she's met by Warren but before he can say a word someone turns on some music at near ear bleeding levels. With a sigh, she goes to reign in some of the enthusiasm of the teenagers.

She steps through the door to the rec room and sees streamers hanging from the ceiling, the pool table has been covered with a sheet and there are a wide array of bowls and plates filled with snack food on it. All of the furniture has been pushed against the wall to make room for a dance floor and a banner proclaiming 'Welcome, Serena' hangs across one of the walls. The students are laughing, eating and dancing and Storm is barely able to manage to squeeze through the crush of bodies to get to the stereo and when she finally gets there she hits the 'pause' button causing most everyone to make various sounds of disappointment.

"I'm glad to see that you are all excited by Serena's arrival," Storm announces loudly. "However, there need to be few ground rules to this little party. First, I will set the volume of the music and it is not to go above that. Second, I want everyone to stay out of the kitchen, so I will order pizza around six this evening."

To that, there's a lot of cheering.

"Next, the party will stay in this room, no taking it into the hall, other rooms or the garden," Storm continues. "Finally, everyone is to be in bed by ten like normal. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Miss Munroe," the students reply.

"Good," Storm states as she turns to the stereo, adjusting the volume before pressing the 'pause' button again.

The students go back to what they had previously been doing before they were interrupted and Storm works her way across the room towards the door. She notices most of the breakable items in the room have been pushed into a corner with a buffer of furniture around them for which she is grateful. She catches a glance of Serena before she leaves the room and sees that a young Asian woman is talking to her and considering how much Jubilee is bouncing around as she talks, Storm wonders how much sugar the girl has already eaten.

* * *

Many hours later, Kitty shows Serena to their room and the new girl gladly collapses onto her new bed. Kitty laughs and helps her get her things a bit more organized before showing her where the bathroom is. Once they're under the covers and the lights are turned off, they both lie there staring into the dark.

"Was it weird going back to your old home to get your stuff?" Kitty quietly asks.

"Yeah," Serena answers sadly. "I saw all the places I knew growing up and yet it was like I hadn't seen them in about a million years. Luckily my dad wasn't there. He's the one who threw me out of the house with just the clothes on my back. My kid brother and sister were there. They didn't understand where I had been or why I was going away again. They're only little kids so I told them I was going away to a special school that was going to teach me all sorts of neat things. They think I'll be home for Christmas. I didn't have the heart to tell them I won't ever be coming home. Mom was crying the whole time."

"That's pretty cold that your dad kicked you out," Kitty says.

"Well, he's not really my dad, he's my step-dad," Serena replies softly. "When my mom was eighteen she got pregnant, but when she told her boyfriend he skipped out on her. She was raising me with the help of my grandparents until she met my step-dad when I was about eight. After they got married he adopted me and we moved to New York. A few years later Mom had my baby brother and a few after that she had my sister."

"Where'd you live before you came to New York?" Kitty questions as she lets out a huge yawn.

"Miami," Serena responds as she lets out a yawn herself. "My grandparents still live down there. Maybe I'll be able to go and see them again some day."

"I'm sure you will," Kitty assures her sleepily.

"How can you be sure?" Serena questions, barely keeping awake.

"Because when you're with the X-Men," Kitty mumbles, "anything is possible."

* * *

_Guten abend_ – German; good evening

**Author's notes:** Hope everyone is enjoying my story so far. This is going to be a fairly long story and I will update as often as I can. But for fair warning, I am writing three other stories so sometimes there will be a lag between chapters. **Chapter 3 is done, 4 is almost done and 5 has been started. If you want anymore chapters posted, then leave a review.**


	3. Surprises

**Author's Notes:** A big THANK YOU to apenamee for the review. For you, here's chapter 3. Thanks to all of my reviewers so far. It really does mean a lot to me when you take those few minutes to leave one, especially after all the hours I spent writing the chapter. Chapter 4 is done and all you need to do is leave a review.

* * *

The 'ding' of the elevator barely makes an impression on Amanda's tired brain and it's not until the doors open does she realize that she's on her floor. She drags herself down the hall to her apartment and unlocks the door with a sigh of relief. It's been a long, but satisfying day and she smiles to herself. 

Not only did she win a case everyone was sure would get a guilty verdict, but she has three new clients because of it. She smirks to herself on Mr. Steele's reaction when he found out that they had more clients coming in then leaving. The man may be a genius in the courtroom, but he is an absolute jerk of a human being.

She drops her heels that's she's been carrying since she stepped into the apartment building in the foyer and takes the last few steps into the living room. An all too familiar muffled sound assaults her ears as soon as she steps into the room and she groans as she rolls her eyes. It seems Bobbi has made another conquest and is currently enjoying the fruits of her labor if the grunts, squeals and moans are anything to go by.

"Wonder how many she's got in there this time," Amanda mutters as she heads for the kitchen.

After dropping her purse and briefcase on one of the kitchen chairs, she shrugs out of her suit jacket and then pulls out the pins holding her hair in the tight bun at the nape of her neck. After getting a bit more comfortable, she roots around in the freezer, going past the half gallon of store brand ice cream and frozen dinners until her fingers find what she's looking for. She pulls out the pint sized carton of premium ice cream that she hides from her roommate, grabs a spoon from the drawer and then heads back into the living room to watch the late night news before heading to bed. However, instead of some relaxation time with the TV, she gets a rather nasty shock.

Her boyfriend is just coming out of the Bobbi's bedroom with his shirt completely unbuttoned, barefooted and the snap on his pants undone. There's a fine sheen of sweat covering his body and his hair is completely mussed. To add to the insult, Bobbi's lipstick is smeared across his face and neck. The instant he sees Amanda he stops dead in his tracks and stares at her, frozen to the spot. She can practically hear the gears in his head as he tries to find an excuse for what he's obviously been doing.

"This isn't what it looks like," he starts, panic evident in his voice.

"Oh really?" she questions calmly, instantly dropping into lawyer mode. "Then please explain exactly what it is, Jeffery."

He starts to try and explain but then he makes a fatal error and looks her in the eye. She's staring at him with a look that she's developed over the years. It's the look that makes unwilling and hostile witnesses squirm on the stand and she's not pulling any punches with her own 'boyfriend.' So instead of words coming out of his mouth, he makes a strangled squeaking noise and then he just opens and shuts his mouth like a fish out of water.

"Jeffie, honey, you forgot your undies in my room again," Bobbi announces as she bounces out of her room in nothing more than a bathrobe that would have problems properly covering a Barbie doll. "Oh, Mandy, your home. Ooh, Ben and Jerry's Phish Food, my favorite. Did you just pick it up? I would love some."

"This isn't what it looks like?" Amanda asks in a soft dangerous tone, returning her 'lawyer stare' back on the hapless male standing in her living room. "I think it's exactly what it looks like, Jeffery."

"Yeah, well, if you didn't have your knees bolted together then maybe this wouldn't have happened," he accuses as he starts to button up his shirt, refusing to look her in the eye this time.

"Jeff, we have only been dating a couple of months," Amanda reminds him as Bobbi jiggles her way past the lawyer to get into the kitchen. "I personally feel that is way too soon to start a physical relationship. You knew that when we started dating and you agreed to wait. Though, I do find it interesting that you said that this 'maybe' wouldn't have happened if I had slept with you. This indicates to me that you had no intention of having a serious relationship."

"Well, what did you expect me to do?" he demands as he hastily tucks his shirt into his pants. "You've got this hot babe as a roommate and you're little Miss Prissy not even letting me get a glimpse at your goods. What's a guy to do?"

"Learn a little self control and keep it in his pants?" Amanda suggests as Bobbi returns with a large soup bowl and a spoon. "I think you need to leave now."

"Fine with me," he snaps as he starts to look around for his shoes. "I'm not sure what I saw in you anyways."

"It doesn't matter now," Amanda sighs as she holds the ice cream out of Bobbi's reach.

"Share," Bobbie whines and Amanda looks down at the much shorter woman who's trying to reach for the carton and not caring that her robe is wide open.

From what male friends have told her, the only reason guys ever go out with Bobbi is because she's got great legs, huge tits and she puts out. It sure isn't for the woman's conversational skills or wit and her personality leaves a great deal to be desired. She's essentially a spoiled six year old trapped in a horney young woman's body. Amanda is fairly sure that if she looked up 'blond bimbo' in the dictionary, Bobbi's picture would be next to it.

"Bobbi, go get dressed and then pack your things," Amanda instructs.

"Why?" Bobbi asks, momentarily distracted from the chocolate, caramel and marshmallow treat.

"Because you're going to go live with Jeff now," Amanda tells her.

"Really?" Bobbi shrieks with glee.

"WHAT? Jeff shrieks with horror at the same time, whirling around to face the women.

"Oh, Jeffie, honey that's wonderful!" Bobbi exclaims as she quickly heads for her room. "I'll be out in just a minute. I just need a few things."

"Listen, bitch, I'm not taking her with me," he snarls as he stalks towards Amanda.

"You wanted her ass, now you get the rest of the package too," Amanda smirks. "You two can come back tomorrow to get the rest of her things, but after that, I don't ever want to see either one of you again."

"You can't do this," he nearly yells.

"Funny, it looks like I just did," she chuckles.

"I'll just leave without her," he retorts.

"I'll put her in a cab and have them drop her off on your front doorstep and I'm sure your neighbors will just _love_ you when she wakes them all up trying to find which apartment is yours," she calmly replies.

"You're a bitch," he snarls.

"And I'm not even warmed up yet," she replies smugly as she turns to go back into the kitchen.

"Don't you have to give her some type of notice or something?" he asks as he follows her. "You can't kick her out without giving her back the rent she's paid for next month. What about the lease agreement?"

"The lease is in my name and she hasn't paid rent for three months," she responds as she drags one of the kitchen chairs over to the pantry. "I've been looking for a way to get rid of her for quite some time. This works out perfectly."

"For you maybe," he growls as she gets up on the chair and reaches towards the back of the top shelf.

"Well, yeah," she snorts as she pulls out a box of Twinkies while he sits in another chair and starts to put his shoes on. "Look at it this way, now you won't have to come all the way over here to get laid. She'll be waiting for you with her legs spread the instant you walk in the door every evening."

"I'll get you for this, _Mandy_," he hisses, emphasizing her hated nickname.

"Get in line," she laughs as Bobbi comes bounding into the room, finally dressed and with an overnight bag over her shoulder.

"Ooh, we have Twinkies too?" Bobbie excitedly exclaims.

"No, I have Twinkies," Amanda replies as she gets a bowl out of the cupboard. "You're leaving, remember?"

"Oh, that's right," Bobbi nods, remembering after a few moments.

"That everything?" Jeff asks pointing to the bag over her shoulder and Amanda chokes down her laughter.

"Oh, no, this is just my makeup bag," Bobbi tells him, her flowing blond mane bouncing around her shoulders and Amanda silently wonders if it's possible for this woman to do anything without jiggling some part of her anatomy. "The rest of my bags are by the front door. Would you be a sweetie and carry them for me please?"

She bats her long lashes at him and gives him big, blue puppy dog eyes while she ever so subtly brings her arms partially across her front causing her breasts to become more prominent. Isn't it convenient that they're at his eye level? Jeff doesn't notice what she's doing though Amanda catches it in an instant; he just stares at those two monster orbs for several seconds as the blood in his brain travels south. Maybe Bobbi isn't as dumb as she looks. She sure knows how to play men like a fiddle.

"Yeah, sure I'll carry your bags," he mumbles as if he's hypnotized and Amanda half expects him to say 'master'.

"Thank you, sweet-pea," she gushes as she turns and bounces out of the room and he follows her in a daze until he gets near the front door.

"Holy crap, woman, how many bags are there?" he shouts and it's all Amanda can do to keep from collapsing in a fit of laughter.

"It's just a few bags, Jeffie," Bobbie wheedles. "I'm sure a big strong man such as you can manage to carry my little old bags down to the car."

"Fine, whatever," Jeff grumbles as he starts to pick up the bags.

Amanda clings to the kitchen counter as she silently laughs at these two. She can't think of two people who more deserve each other than them. There's quite a bit of banging and cursing going on in the foyer and it's all Amanda can do to keep from collapsing on the floor in gales of laughter. Then a thought occurs to her and she quickly makes her way towards the front door.

"Bobbi, I need your keys to the apartment," Amanda states.

"Why?" Bobbi asks, truly perplexed.

"Because you're going to go live with Jeff now and you don't need them any more," Amanda explains.

"Oh, ok," Bobbi agrees and starts to dig around in her purse, finally pulling them out a moment later. "Here you go."

"Thank you," Amanda says and looks over at Jeff who's struggling to get four huge bags out the door. "Have a good night."

He gives her a death glare before he goes back to wrestling these monstrosities out the door. It takes him several minutes, but he finally does get them out the door and down the hall to the elevator. Amanda wonders if she should mention that chances are pretty small that they'll be able to get the bags and themselves into that puny little elevator.

"Nah," she decides and heads back to the kitchen.

She unwraps a Twinkie and then she dumps it into the bowl that's waiting for her. She scoops out a couple of chunks of ice cream on top of it and then takes her Twinkie sundae and heads for the family room. She plops down on the couch and turns on the TV to watch the evening news.

By the time she's done with her sundae she's no longer paying attention to the news and is lost in thought. She thinks about all of the past relationships she's had and it's a pretty miserable score card. She dated a bit in law school, but she found it affected her grades so she had stopped doing it. After she past the bar exams and got a job it seemed that finding romance wouldn't be that hard.

However, it seems man after man in her life either was intimidated by an intelligent, strong willed woman or they just wanted sex. She just couldn't bring herself to throw away her morals in her personal life any more than she could throw them away in her professional, but that's what men seemed to expect. With an exasperated sigh, she lays her head on the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling for a while.

"Ok, here's the deal, God," she says to the universe. "I want a man that is nice and kind and gentle and loves me for who I am and treats me with respect and I promise you I'll…really think about having a kid. Deal?"

There's no answer and she lets out another sigh a minute later.

"Figures," she mutters as she gets off the couch, turns off the TV and heads for bed. "God must be a man. He's afraid of a commitment."

* * *

With a tired groan, Ambassador Hank McCoy closes the door to his apartment and then leans against the wall. After about a minute of standing there, he reaches down and unties his shoes before kicking them off. He wiggles his toes for a few moments with a sigh of relief before pushing himself off of the wall and heading towards the kitchen, casually tossing his suit jacket over the arm of the couch on his way. 

_What was I thinking?_ he thinks to himself as he pulls a box of Twinkies out of the cupboard. _I was thinking I could do some good in this world._ sigh _Now, instead of helping my fellow mutants, I'm stuck in committee meetings all day talking to people who refuse to listen. Sometimes I think I'd be better off talking to a brick wall than these people. Why can't they see that mutants aren't just going to go away?_ sigh _Oh well, at least it's the weekend and I won't have to deal with these idiots until Monday._

With that last thought, he stuffs a couple Twinkies in his mouth, tosses out the wrappers and then decides to go to bed. He heads towards his bedroom slowly stripping as he goes, dropping bits and pieces of clothes as he makes his way down the hallway like shed hair all the while never letting go of the scrap of paper clutched in his hand. He steps out of his pants as he gets into the bedroom and then sits on his bed to take off his socks.

He stretches his toes as he examines his socks and with a tired sigh, he tosses them into the trash. Despite constantly trying to keep his toenails trimmed, they always seem to shred his socks. He climbs under the covers with a moan of relief and he can finally start to relax.

Before turning off the light he takes another look at the small piece of paper his assistant gave him when he had gotten out of his meeting. It brings a smile to his face and returns hope to his heart to know that there are people out there willing to give mutants a chance. He ignores the phone numbers on the bottom for now and instead stares at the two words written across the top in his assistant's hand writing.

_NOT GUILTY_

A quick look at the clock on his nightstand confirms that a congratulatory phone call would not be welcomed at this time of night. After carefully putting the paper on the nightstand, he turns off the light and rolls over onto his side with a sigh of contentment. Within minutes, his soft snores fill the room.

* * *

Amanda sits on the couch with her legs crossed underneath her, the late morning sun streaming through her window and she can hear the cars down on the street below through the open window as she prays for a small breeze to help cool off the already warm apartment. She wonders if she can a good deal on a window air conditioner in late September as she goes over her notes that she took over the phone the day before while talking to one of her new clients. There are a couple of law books lying open on the coffee table and next to her on the couch as she chews on the end of her pen, frowning at the note pad in front of her when the phone rings which she automatically picks up. 

"Forget it, Jeff, I'm not taking her back," she says into the mouth piece. "You wanted her, you got her."

With that, she hangs up the phone for quite possibly the twentieth time this morning. She chuckles to herself as she remembers the first call with him begging her to take Bobbi back and the little bimbo in the background whining for him to come back to bed. It seems he doesn't like having a nymphomaniac for a bedmate since she constantly wants sex and now he's all tuckered out from having to perform and lack of sleep.

"That'll teach him not to keep it in his pants," she snickers.

* * *

Hank sits and stares at his phone with a frown on his face. 

"She hung up on me," he tells the device. "Though I'm most curious as to whom this Jeff character is."

Picking up the handset, he dials again and the other end is picked up a moment later.

"This isn't Jeff!" he calls out quickly. "Please don't hang up!"

"Um, hello?" a woman's voice queries.

"Is this Amanda Simon?" he asks.

"Yes," Amanda answers. "Doug, is that you?"

"No, this isn't Doug," he replies, glad that she didn't immediately hang up on him this time. "This is Ambassador Hank McCoy."

"Good one, Brian," she chuckles. "I've got to admit that you've got McCoy's voice down pretty good. Though I think you've got him sounding a bit snootier than he sounds on TV. Keep working on it though."

Before he can get over his shock, there's a click and he realizes she's hung up on him again. He puts the handset back down in the cradle and goes back to looking at the phone, this time with an amused look on his face. Figuring that the third time is a charm, he calls her again only to get a busy tone.

* * *

"This is insane," she mutters as she takes the phone off the hook. "I'm never going to get any work done at this rate." 

She gets up and gets her shoes on before grabbing her note pad and stuffing it into her briefcase. Once she's ready to go, she puts the phone back in the cradle. As she's shutting the door, she hears the phone ring again and she gladly closes the door. She locks up the apartment and then takes off to the library to get some work done and to escape the quickly rising heat of the day.


	4. Working Weekend

**Author's Notes: **Thank you, nobodyhome, this chapter is for you. Chapter 5 is in the works, so please review and I will get it up as soon as I can.

* * *

"Come on, Serena, it's time to get up," Kitty says as she shakes her new friend back to consciousness.

"Wow," Serena yawns. "I haven't slept like that in ages. I could stay in bed for a week."

"Well, you can't," Kitty laughs. "We need to make our beds, get dressed and then get down to breakfast."

"Ok, ok, I'm getting up," Serena replies as she lets out another yawn and stretches.

A short time later, both girls walk into the large dining room and find themselves faced with a wide variety of cold cereals and juices. Serena watches as one of the other students serves himself breakfast and she follows suit. Kitty hesitantly does the same, but there's a frown on her face.

"What's the matter?" Serena asks as they find a couple of seats together.

"Well, usually we get a hot breakfast on the weekends," Kitty answers. "We get the cereal on school days since the teachers don't have time to make breakfast then. I wonder way we got cereal today."

Serena just shrugs and digs into her breakfast glad to have someone nice to talk to for a change. Jubilee joins them a couple of minutes later with her own bowl, but instead of eating, she starts talking.

"Hey, you two," Jubilee cheerfully greets. "I was thinking of a battle name for you, Serena. I was thinking something that has to do with your powers, like, how, you know, Storm is called that because she can control the weather and Magneto is called that because he has this whole magnetic thing going on and Bobby has this whole ice making thing so he's called Iceman and then there's Beast because, let's face it, he's big, blue and really furry. So I was thinking that maybe, you know, you could be called Shocker or Shock Wave or something like that because, you know, you have that really cool power where you send out a big old shock wave that just totally flattens everything in its path."

"Your cereal's getting soggy," Kitty points out when Jubilee stops to take a deep breath.

"Oh right, thanks," Jubilee replies but doesn't pick up her spoon. "So, what do you think, Serena? Or maybe we could do a name based on your name like Kitty because her battle name is Shadowcat and I'm Jubilee and my full name is Jubilation Lee and I can't think of anybody else right now. Or you could do something on how you look, like you know, Cyclops was called that because it looked like had one eye when he had the visor on and Angel is called that because he has wings. Oh, or you could just go with a name that really doesn't go with your name or abilities like Rogue did or Mystique, but they've both had the 'cure' so I guess it really doesn't matter does it? But of course there's still Nightcrawler and Wolverine who didn't take the cure so I guess that it's still a good idea. Or maybe not even go with a battle name because Professor Xavier was just called Professor X and Jean Grey was Jean Grey, but that's never any fun in my opinion. So, what do you think?"

"I've never really given it much thought, but I'll think about it," Serena responds diplomatically as she goes back to her breakfast.

"Ok, great," Jubilee says as she finally picks up her spoon and starts eating.

They continue eating and as they're finishing up, Storm walks in with a clipboard in her hand with Angel and Nightcrawler following behind her.

"Good morning, students," Storm shouts to be heard over the general murmur of voices in the room.

"Good morning, Miss Munroe," the students reply and instantly go silent.

"As you all noticed this morning, you were given cold cereal for breakfast," Storm announces and there's a lot of grumbling in response. "That is because yesterday, in your enthusiasm to have a party, you left the kitchen a complete mess. I just came from the rec room and I must say that that room isn't in any better condition. That being the case today will be spent putting those rooms back to rights. Once everyone is done with their breakfasts, you are to come up and see me for your assignment. Mr. Worthington and Mr. Wagner will be over seeing your work, so don't even think about trying to shirk your duties. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," everyone mutters, no one sounding happy about the idea of cleaning up the rooms.

Serena watches the two men standing with Storm and is quickly able to figure out which one is Angel but she has no clue as to what they might call the mutant with blue skin and a long blue tail. Angel walks over to a door that appears to lead to another room and takes up a position like he's guarding the door. The blue guy disappears leaving behind a little bit of smoke where he had been. She quickly looks around for him and sees that he's reappeared by a door that leads outside.

"That's Kurt Wagner," Kitty tells her. "His battle name is Nightcrawler. He's a bit shy, but he's nice. He teaches history and social studies. He also will teach German to anyone willing to try but I don't think he's had any takers yet."

"And the other guy is Mr. Worthington, right?" Serena asks, indicating Angel.

"Yeah, that's Warren Worthington the third," Kitty answers, turning to look at the blond haired mutant. "He teaches math and economics. He's nice, but he's a bit flighty."

Kitty looks back at Serena and they both snicker, but Jubilee has missed the entire exchange since she's deep in conversations with another girl at the table.

"I guess we should go get our assignments," Serena sighs, staring at her empty bowl.

"This is not what I had planned on doing today," Kitty mumbles unhappily. "This promises to be as much fun as a trip to the dentist's."

"It could be worse," Serena points out, as haunted look in her eyes.

Kitty looks at her like she wants to ask, but decides better of it and instead shows Serena where she leaves her dirty dishes and then drags her feet over to Storm. They stand in line behind a few other students that have looks on their faces as if someone has just canceled Christmas, but the line moves quickly as the students split up and head towards the teacher they've been assigned to.

"Ah, Kitty," Storm smiles as she checks off a name. "You'll be in the rec room today with Mr. Wagner. Go wait with the others until everyone else is done."

"Yes, ma'am," Kitty moans as she turns and heads towards the blue mutant with her head hanging down.

"And don't even _think_ about disappearing through that floor, missy," Storm calls after her and Kitty suddenly rises several inches out of the floor she was starting to sink through.

"What about me, Miss Munroe?" Serena asks.

"You'll be with me and Logan today," Storm answers. "Just hang out here with me until this is done."

Serena takes up a spot near Storm over by the wall and waits nervously until the woman is done handing out tasks. It takes about fifteen minutes before the last stragglers finally get their assignments and Storm hands over the lists to the other two teachers. She waves Serena out into the hallway and then starts to lead the girl through the mansion.

"We want to test your power today," Storm tells her as they turn down yet another hallway.

"I've never been able to just make it happen when I wanted to," Serena warns as they stop in front of an ordinary part of the wall.

"We weren't expecting you to," Storm replies as she presses a hidden button and the wall slides to the side to reveal an elevator.

"Oh, wow," Serena whispers in wonder as she follows Storm into the small enclosure. "Where are going?"

"The Danger Room," Storm answers. "It's the safest place to test your powers."

"Oh," Serena replies weakly.

"It's going to be ok," Storm assures her.

Serena doesn't answer, too nervous to speak so she just follows Storm down the chrome colored hallways when the elevator lets them out. A short time later Storm is punching in a code into a small numeric pad next to a door with a giant chrome **X** in it and a second later the door rolls open with a 'swooshing' sound. They step into a giant room that's at least two stories tall, about as big as a football field and completely painted white. They find that Logan is already there waiting for them, his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against a wall.

"'bout time you two showed up," he grumbles, pushing himself off the wall.

"Patience, Logan, I had to give the students their assignments for today," Storm replies. "I trust you haven't touched any of the settings."

Logan only scowls at her in response.

"Serena, please stand in the middle of the room," Storm instructs as she steps through a door into what looks to be another elevator.

Serena does as instructed and looks around; barely noticing that Logan has taken up a position in front of her, but several feet away. She looks up and sees a series of windows which Storm appears behind a moment later. She's not sure what to expect, but what happens next nearly stops her heart.

One moment she's standing in the Danger Room and the next she's back in Central Park. It's night and a cold wind is blowing, tearing through the thin clothing that she's wearing. She quickly looks around as she wraps her arms around her for warmth and instantly recognizes this as the same exact spot that she had been in on that fateful night.

"Miss Munroe?" she calls out nervously. "Mr. Logan?"

There's no response other than the howling of the wind that's whipping her hair around her face. She rubs her hands up and down her arms trying to warm herself and to bring a little self comfort.

"Hello? Anybody?" she yells, her voice trembling as her stomach ties itself into knots with fear.

Then she hears them. She hears the voices that have haunted her dreams for more than six months and a second later the owners of those voices step under a light not that far away.

"No," she whimpers, tears starting to form in her eyes, blurring her view. "This can't be happening. You're dead. I killed you. You're dead."

"Lookie what we've got here, boys," the blond one says upon spotting her. "Looks like we found ourselves a little field mouse."

"You're dead!" she shouts at them, tears flowing down her cheeks unheeded. "You're dead! I killed you!"

"Hey, little mousie, wanna play with us?" the dark haired boy asks mockingly as they quickly move towards her.

"I KILLED YOU!" she screams, barely able to see them anymore as the fear takes a hold of her. "YOU'RE DEAD!"

With that last statement, she feels the power surge through her and all she can do is put her hands up as the shock wave is discharged through her hands while closing her eyes, unable to watch. She's barely aware of her surroundings as she drops to her knees. She looks up expecting to see the remains of the three boys and destroyed trees and benches of the park like last time. Instead, she stares in a confused daze at the walls of a giant white room and the bright crimson smear on the white wall in front of her. There's a crumpled heap at the bottom of the wall under the blood and it takes Serena several seconds to realize who it is.

"Oh my god, I've killed him," she says in a strangled voice as she staggers to her feet. "I've killed Mr. Logan. Oh my god."

The nearly hysterical teenager is stopped by a pair of arms and she grabs onto them instinctually.

"I killed him!" she sobs. "I've killed Mr. Logan!"

"Serena!" Storm yells to get the girl's attention and when that fails grabbing her face to force her to look at the white haired woman. "Serena, you didn't kill him! Logan's ok!"

"But…but…," Serena stammers.

"Look, see for yourself," Storm instructs as she turns Serena's head towards Logan.

Serena watches in amazement as Logan slowly gets up off of the floor and stands up. He cricks his neck a couple times and then brushes himself off. Serena stands there in stunned amazement as he starts to walk over to them, completely unaware that Storm has let go of her head, though she's still clinging to Storm's arms.

"The kid's got one hell of a kick," he admits as he gets closer.

"But how…?" Serena tries to ask.

"Logan has accelerated healing," Storm explains. "He's virtually indestructible."

"Which makes me everyone's favorite punching bag," he growls. "We about done?"

"Yes, Logan, thank you," Storm replies. "I'll talk to you later after Kurt and I have had a chance to review the video."

"Good, I could use a smoke," he states.

"Just do it outside," Storm tells him.

"Wheels let me smoke in the mansion," he grumbles.

"Professor Xavier had a good deal more patience than I do," she tersely replies. "Please smoke your cigars outside."

"Fine," he huffs as he stalks out of the Danger Room.

"I guess I know why it's called the Danger Room," Serena finally says in a shaky voice after Logan is gone. "Should I clean up the wall?"

"I'll take care of it," Storm tells her as she finally manages to dislodge Serena's death grip on her. "We've got a special formula that will get rid of that stain without any problems. Why don't you go up to your room and rest for a while? I'll have Kitty and the others show you around the grounds after lunch."

"Ok," Serena nods tiredly, feeling like she's just run a marathon.

Storm gently steers the still shell shocked girl towards the door and then down the hall. A minute later Serena is stepping into the elevator after assuring Storm that she can get up to her room by herself. Nearly ten minutes and a few missed turns later, Serena finds her and Kitty's room and immediately collapses on her bed, asleep within moments of her head hitting the pillow.

* * *

After spending her Sunday moving Bobbi's furniture and other belongings out of her apartment and having very little luck finding a new apartment of her own, Amanda sits down with her laptop to check her email before calling it a day. She deletes anything from Jeff, especially since most of the subjects include rather vulgar descriptions of her body and other offensive items. Emptying the email trash has never been more therapeutic. Then she goes through the emails promising her great loan rates, cheep diplomas and offers for drugs to enlarge certain parts of her anatomy, including parts she doesn't own. Once that's done, she's left with emails from her mother, sister and one that she's never seen the sender before, but she instantly knows who it is and she opens that one first.

_To: LawyerGirl_

_From: NotGuilty1_

_Subject: I'm home_

_Dear Amanda,_

_When Miss Munroe said the other kids would like me, she wasn't kidding! They had a welcome party waiting for me when I got here! I can't remember when I've had so much fun! The kids here are great and I'm sharing a room with a girl named Kitty who can walk through walls! How cool is that? I have to say all of the kids here are really nice and some of the boys are really, really cute. Especially one guy called Peter. I've never felt so relaxed with where I was living before I came here. I mean, I love my mom and brother and sister, but my dad always was yelling about something or the other and it was really stressful living there. I really feel like I truly belong here._

_Unfortunately, the other kids made a really big mess with the party preparations and they spent Saturday morning cleaning it up while Miss Munroe and Mr. Logan decided to test my powers. I don't ever want to go through that again. I thought I had killed Mr. Logan! Turns out you can't kill the guy. At any rate, they've been going over the video and they're trying to think of ways to help me control my powers. I hope they can think of something soon. Sometimes I feel like I'm a walking time bomb._

_You are NEVER going to guess who came by today. Ambassador Hank McCoy came by just to see me. ME! How cool is that? But I've got to tell you he's really blue and he's really, really hairy and he's monster big. I can see why they call him Beast. Pictures just don't do him justice. But he's really smart and really nice. I think you'd like him. BTW, he says to tell you 'hi' and 'congratulations.'_

_Mr. Logan seems to have nicknames for just about everyone. He calls Mr. Worthington Tweety, Mr. Wagner elf-boy and he called Ambassador McCoy furball. To his face! He usually calls me kid, but I think he calls most of the students that. Except for Peter, he calls him Tin Man. And Bobby he calls ice cube and Popsicle. _

_Well, it's almost time for dinner, so I better get going. Hope to hear from you soon._

_Hugs,_

_Serena _

Amanda smiles and she sighs with contentment that she was able to help find this girl happiness. She rereads the message and chuckles at all the energy the girl has plus the fact that in a little over two days she's already developed a crush on one of the other students. She wishes that relationships were still that easy as she clicks on the reply button.

_To: NotGuilty1_

_From: LawyerGirl_

_Subject: Re: I'm home_

_Dear Serena,_

_I'm so happy for you. It makes all the work we went through well worth it. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call or email. Enjoy your new life; I hope it's filled with all of the things you deserve in life_

_Hugs,_

_Amanda_

She double checks her letter and then clicks the 'send' button. After that's done she reads the email from her mother reminding her of the fact that Amanda must come down to Virginia in a couple weeks for them to have a proper celebration. Amanda groans at the very idea, but knows she'll never hear the end of it if she doesn't go.

"Why do we have to celebrate getting old?" she grumbles to herself as she clicks on her sister's email.

_To: LawyerGirl_

_From: TheBetterHalf_

_Subject: You did it!_

_Hey Sis,_

_Congrats on winning the case. The kids and I were glued to the TV from the moment they announced that the jury had reached a verdict. I am so proud of you! I bet Serena's going to love Xavier's school._

_However, now that everyone knows what you look like I can't go anywhere without people thinking I'm you. I tried to buy some milk the other day before you even got the not guilty verdict and people were giving me these really dirty looks. At fist I thought maybe I had forgotten to wear my sunglasses, but it turns out they thought I was you! God, I thought we got past this mistaken identity thing back in grade school. Sometimes it sucks being an identical twin._

_Don't forget the 'nice, quiet' birthday party Mom has planned for us. I swear this surprise birthday party has got to be the world's worst kept secret. God, I can't believe we're turning 30. Remember when 30 was like ancient? Where'd the time go? Are you bringing anyone special? You know what'll happen if you do._

_Congrats again._

_Love,_

_Annie_

Amanda smiles as she fires off a reply to her sister thanking her, assuring her that Serena loves her new life, commiserating about the mistaken identity thing and giving the latest on her lack of love life. Once that's done, she shuts down the computer, lets out a huge yawn and heads for bed. She smiles to herself knowing she won't be woken up in the middle of the night by someone else's sexual antics.


	5. Mail

**Author's Notes:** Again, thank you to nobodyhome for your review, here's another chapter for you. I really must get back to my other stories, so it may be a while before I update again. However, if there are no reviews, I won't bother so please leave one.

* * *

"Morning, Betty, how was your weekend?" Amanda greets as she walks into the office Monday morning.

"Morning, Amanda, it was really good," Betty replies with a big grin on her face. "My mom took the kids for the weekend so Paul and I went and stayed at a hotel. We went out dinner at a fancy restaurant and saw a show on Broadway and we didn't have to worry about the kids disturbing other people. We actually got to talk to each other like normal human beings. I had almost forgotten what that was like."

"So, any champagne or chocolate covered strawberries?" Amanda teases with a chuckle.

"No, but we gave that hotel bed a real work out," Betty laughs, slightly blushing. "So, how was your weekend?"

"It was interesting," Amanda responds. "I found out Jeff has been having sex with my roommate for god knows how long, my cousin Brian kept calling pretending to be Ambassador Hank McCoy and I'm looking for a new apartment."

"Jeff was having sex with Bobbi?" Betty gasps, her mouth hanging open in shock. "That scuzball, that slime, that, that…I hope you kicked him where it counts."

"I did even better," Amanda smirks. "I kicked him _and_ Bobbi out and she's now living with him. Of course, he's been calling me almost non-stop all weekend begging me to take the little hussy back and refused to come and get the rest of her stuff. I finally had to ask a friend to come over and between the two of us we got her belongings out of my apartment and over to Jeff's. Man, was he pissed when we showed up."

"You're evil," Betty admiringly admits while she snickers. "Is that why you're looking for a new apartment?"

"Yeah, I want to get something with only one bedroom," Amanda replies as she starts to head towards her office. "I'm sick of roommates that don't pay their rent on time."

"And are stealing your boyfriends," Betty points out.

"And eating the food I buy without ever contributing," Amanda adds. "I'm better off without either one of them."

"Agreed," Betty nods just before Amanda disappears through the door.

* * *

A few of hours later, Sarah, the personal assistant Amanda shares with the other two junior lawyers in the firm, sticks her head in Amanda's office.

"Mail's here," Sarah announces.

"Ok, just put it on the desk," Amanda replies, not bothering to look up from the brief she's reading.

"Um…," Sarah stalls.

"'Um' what?" Amanda asks, finally looking up at the other woman.

"Well, let's just say you might want to clear off your desk first," Sarah answers as she disappears out the door.

Amanda frowns at the empty doorway until Sarah comes in carrying a fairly large white crate with 'Property of the United States Postal Service' written on the sides. Sarah balances the overly full box down on the edge of the desk and looks at the younger woman.

"So, you still want it on the desk?" Sarah questions.

"Oh boy," Amanda murmurs as she takes the top letter off the pile, opens and reads it. "Oh boy. Is this all of them?"

"Yeah," Sarah affirms. "You know this probably going to get worse, right?"

"Yeah," Amanda sighs. "Ok, leave them next to the desk. I'll start going through them during my lunch break."

"Ok, but watch out for Mr. Steele," Sarah warns. "He's in one of his moods."

"Joy," Amanda mumbles as drops the opened letter into the box with the others and goes back to the brief she was reading.

* * *

A couple of hours later finds Amanda working her way through the letters and sorting them into piles in between taking bites of her sandwich. As she opens yet another letter, she can hear Sarah and Mr. Steele talking and she doesn't need super hearing to know that they're talking about her. Fortunately, Sarah's a great watch dog and is able to get rid of the man for the time being for which Amanda is thankful as she takes another bite of her lunch and starts reading the next letter. A short time later, Sarah slips into her office, gently closing the door behind her.

"How's it going?" Sarah softly asks.

"It's almost 50-50 right now, but I'm only about half way through the letters," Amanda quietly replies. "So far there's a few more letters supporting what I did than those who hate me and there are a couple death threats. I've already got a file going for those to take to the police."

"You know this is just the beginning," Sarah states as she looks at the piles. "Good heaven's, who taught some of these people how to write?"

"Public education at its best," Amanda mutters as she drops the current letter on a pile. "I'm going to have to finish this at home. It's going to be so much fun getting these things home."

"Do you want some help going through these?" Sarah asks.

"I can't ask you to do that," Amanda answers. "If Mr. Steele thinks for a second that I'm using company time or resources, he'll run screaming to Mr. Jones and then I'll be looking for another job instead of an apartment."

"Well, I can at least drive you home tonight," Sarah offers.

"I can't ask you to do that either," Amanda says, really wanting to kiss the woman's feet at that second but not wanting to impose.

"That's why I'm offering," Sarah tells her. "Be ready to go around five."

With that, Sarah marches out of the office and back to her desk before Amanda can voice any more objections. With a chuckle and a shake of her head, Amanda finishes her sandwich and puts away the letters. Once that's done, she gets back to work but gets no more than five minutes worth of work done before Mr. Steele marches into her office.

"Yes, Mr. Steele, may I help you?" she calmly asks.

"I certainly hope you haven't been going through your 'love' letters on company time," he warns

"No, sir, I was going through them during my lunch, I'll finish them when I get home tonight," she replies.

"Is that box company property?" he demands, pointing at the box the letters are in.

"No, it belongs to the US Postal Service," she responds, using every ounce of self control she has. "Is there something you specifically need? I'd like to get back to work."

"Just remember not to…," he starts heatedly.

"Mr. Steele, at anytime during my handling of Serena's case did I use company time or resources?" she questions, staring down the man who delights in being a thorn in her side.

"No," he growls, glaring at her.

"Then you can rest assured that at no time will I be costing the company anything when I deal with the mail that I receive," she tells him. "Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have work to do."

Amanda just stares back at him until he finally leaves her office in a huff. She gives a sigh of relief as the muscles in her shoulders start to relax. She goes back to what she had been doing before she was interrupted and quickly loses herself in her work.

* * *

"Would you like me to do that?"

"No, thank you, Mary, I can manage," Hank replies to his personal assistant, not bothering to look up.

"What would you like me to do now?" she asks, still a little unsure about her new boss. "I finished copying your notes from the meeting and sent copies to the other ambassadors."

"Would you get an address for me?" he requests as he continues to write. "I either need the home address or work address for Amanda Simon."

"The lawyer that helped that mutant girl?" she inquires. "I thought I got you her phone number."

"She is and you did," he answers, finally looking up at her over the top of his half moon glasses. "However, I wasn't able to get a hold of her properly this past weekend, so I thought I'd write her a note congratulating her."

"Ok, I'll see what I can find," she tells him and heads for the door.

"Thank you, Mary," he says as he turns back to his letter. "Please shut the door on your way out."

"Yes, sir," Mary replies, quietly doing as instructed on the way out.

He rereads what he's written, sighs and then crumples up the paper before tossing it into the recycling bin where it joins several other wadded up balls of paper, all attempts at writing to the lawyer in question. How hard can it be to write a congratulatory letter? He pulls out another sheet of stationary and starts writing again. Maybe if he's not disturbed he'll be able to get through this without having second thoughts about it.

He starts to write and refuses to stop until he's left his signature at the bottom. Once he's done, he reads it to himself and sighs in frustration. He can't figure out why writing this little missive is becoming so difficult. Deciding that perhaps a second opinion is in order, he calls Mary into his office.

"I've been able to get her work address, but I haven't been unable to find her home address, sir," Mary says as she steps up to his desk.

"How were you able to get her phone number if you can't get her address?" he asks, a bit perplexed.

"I know someone who knows someone," she vaguely explains. "You'll find no greater grapevine than secretaries. Unfortunately, the person who knows her phone number doesn't know her address. I tried looking it up in the phone book, but there is not one Amanda Simon, however, there are about a million A. Simon's. I could try comparing phone numbers if you like."

"Oh my stars and garters, no," he softly chuckles. "Her work address will be fine, thank you. Please, read this and tell me what you think."

He hands her the letter and she reads it carefully.

"It looks fine, sir," she says as she hands the paper back.

"It doesn't sound too…snooty?" he asks, thankful for the fur to cover his growing blush.

"Uh, no, it doesn't sound snooty at all," she assures him, fighting the smile that's trying to emerge.

"Ok, thank you," he sighs in relief. "Would you please bring me that address now?"

"Yes, sir," she answers as she turns towards the door. "I'll get it right away."

"Thank you, Mary," he says to her retreating back as he pulls out an envelope.

"Oh, sir, before I forget, Mr. Harte from the president's office wants to know how many tickets you want for the masquerade ball next month," she states which causes him to groan.

"I don't suppose I can decline," he mutters.

"I believe Mr. Harte said it would be political suicide if you aren't there with the president," she tells him.

"Very well, put me down for two," he sighs as he picks his pen back up. "I hope Ororo isn't busy that night."

Soon the letter is in its envelope, addressed and put in the outgoing mail and he finally relaxes satisfied with the knowledge that there is no way that Amanda can mistake him for someone named Brian now. He sits back and thinks about why this is so important to him. He wants to make sure she knows that all of her hard work is appreciated, but he wonders if it's more than that.

The pictures he's seen of her have shown a rather handsome woman with striking features, especially her eyes. Eyes that are green as a cat's are very rare and he can only imagine what it must be like for someone on the stand to have them staring holes into you. From what he's read, she had many a witness squirming in their seats just by staring at them at the trial. He finally shakes himself out his musings and gets back to trying to bring peace to the world for both mutant and human kind.

* * *

On Tuesday, two more boxes of letters arrive and Betty offers to drive Amanda home fore which the attorney is very grateful. Wednesday sees four more of those stupid white crates dropped off in her office and all she can do is drop her head on her desk and groan. That evening, as she wonders how she's going to get all of these letters back to her place, Mr. Jones walks into her office.

"My goodness, but you've become very popular," the older man chuckles. "Of course if you listen to Mr. Steele, you're buried up to your eyeballs and not getting a lick of work done."

"Sir…," she starts to protest.

"Don't worry, my dear," he assures her as he raises his hand in a stopping motion. "I've known Steven Steele long enough to know he's just a crotchety old fart."

She tries not to laugh, but a snort of laughter still manages to get out and he grins in response as she tries to hide her smile behind her hand.

"How were you planning on getting these home?" he asks as he lowers his rather round figure into one her office chairs.

"I honestly don't know," she informs him. "I'm hoping for a miracle at this point. Maybe the letter fairy will come and take them away for me. If this keeps up the way it has been, I'll have twenty-four more of these boxes by the end of Friday."

"I'm sure this is the worst of it," he tells her. "Any interesting letters?"

"Well, the letters supporting what I did is slightly in the lead over the hate mail," she states. "However, I have received half a dozen death threats so far and I haven't even finished going through yesterday's mail. Those have gone to the police so at least they'll know where to start looking if I suddenly go missing."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," he replies as he scratches his neatly trimmed white beard. "They're probably just letting off steam."

"I hope so," she sighs worriedly.

"So, are you about done for the day?" he asks.

"Yeah, I guess so," she answers. "Why?"

"Good, because I'm about ready to head out and I thought I'd give you a ride home," he states.

"Oh, Mr. Jones, you don't have to do that," she replies, touched that he'd be willing to do such a thing.

"I know, but I want to," he tells her as he stands up. "I'll go get my coat and then we'll start hauling these bad boys down to my car."

"Thank you," is all she can say as he leaves her office.

She quickly tidies up what she was doing, locks her file cabinets, shuts off her computer and gets her purse out of her desk drawer. Just as she's slipping her suit jacket back on, Mr. Jones returns with his car keys jingling in his pocket. Before she has a chance to say anything, he picks up one of the boxes and starts to head out. She quickly grabs another crate and follows him as Betty and Sarah step in to take up the other two.

After locking her office door, Amanda follows the other three out to the elevators. They talk about trivial things as they make their way down to the employee parking garage under the building. Once the mail is loaded into the trunk of Mr. Jones's car, Betty and Sarah say their goodbyes and head off to their own cars.

"Mr. Jones, thank you so much for doing this," she says as they pull out into rush hour traffic.

"Think nothing of it, Amanda," he responds as he negotiates the roads. "I actually have an ulterior motive for driving you home."

"An ulterior motive?" she questions worriedly.

"You see, I have a nephew who's politically bound and he's going to a ball at the end of next month," he starts to explain.

"Ok," she replies, still confused.

"He was dating a lovely young lady for a while," he continues. "But I'm afraid the relationship has turned sour and he has found himself with an extra ticket. He wants to appear to be pro-mutant, so he called me this morning and he asked if perhaps you were free. I said I would ask and I understand that you and Jeff recently had a falling out."

"Falling out?" she snorts. "That's a nice way of putting it. I caught him coming out of my roommate's room with his pants barely back on. Is this some political shindig?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is and I know you're not really into politics, but he's my nephew and I had to ask," he says apologetically.

"I don't know," she hesitates. "I don't have anything to wear to a ball."

"It's a masquerade ball and I'm afraid he's already decided to go as The Phantom from The Phantom of the Opera," he replies. "The plans were for his lady friend to go as Christine. I'm sure there's someplace you could rent a Christine gown."

"I'm sure I can, but I still have a couple concerns," she states. "My first is that I have no idea what your nephew is like and as I'm going to be doing him a rather large favor, I'm kind of interested in what's in it for me. I hardly think spending the evening with a completely stranger is going to be fun, especially if he's going to be spending more time smoozing than keeping me company."

"Of course not," he hastily agrees. "He is more than willing to meet with you beforehand and see if the two of you at least get along. He's a very nice boy and he's rather handsome too. And if you do agree to go, I'll have a good long talking too to Mr. Steele about his behavior."

"That would be nice," she agrees. "However, I've dated plenty of handsome gentlemen and most of them have turned out to be rather conceited."

"What about the ones that weren't conceited?" he inquires.

"Gay," she answers in all seriousness. "My other concern is that people are going to see me there and are going to assume that I'm looking to become politically active. I had enough of that during Serena's trial, thank you."

"It is a masquerade ball, so you're face will be covered until the unmasking at midnight," he reminds her.

"I'm 5'10 with black hair and green eyes," she points out. "I hardly fade into the background. Mask or not, people are going to know who I am."

"And if anyone starts bothering you, introduce them to my nephew," he instructs. "That boy could charm a snake out of its scales if he put his mind to it."

"I'm surprised that he wants to be seen as pro-mutant," she says. "I always thought most politicians were like clay, molding themselves to what they think will get them the votes."

"True, but the president has come out as a pro-mutant so right now, being pro-mutant is 'in'," he points out as he manages to find a parking spot near her apartment. "So, what do you say? Will you at least meet him for coffee or something?"

"I suppose I could meet him for coffee," she sighs as she gets out of the car. "I guess it can't hurt to at least get to know him first."

"Excellent," he grins as he helps her get the first couple boxes out of the trunk. "I'll call him tonight and have him call you tomorrow."

He helps her bring up the letters to her apartment and then wishes her a good night. After he leaves, she moves the new batch of missives into the spare bedroom where she's set up her mail sorting area and then goes around the apartment opening windows to air out the stuffy rooms. Afterwards, she heads for the kitchen for a quick frozen dinner before going through enough letters that she's sure an entire old growth forest must have died for. By the time she finally drags herself to bed hours later, she's finished off the last of Tuesday's mail and has made a sizeable dent in the first box of this day's mail. With a tired groan, she crawls into bed and is asleep as soon as her head touches the pillow.


	6. Email

**Author's Notes:** Thanks to nobodyhome, giggles5793 and mythigal for your reviews. Here, finally, is the next chapter. Please leave a review if you want to see the next one.

* * *

_To: LawyerGirl_

_From: NotGuilty1_

_Subject: What a week_

_Hi Amanda,_

_What a week it's been! Last Sunday they made me take a bunch of tests to see which classes I would be in so now I'm taking calculus which is hard but fun. I know, I'm weird, I like math. On the down side, my English class is with a bunch of younger kids. Talk about a bummer. Oh, and I now have chores to do, but that's ok because everyone has them and they change every week. Unfortunately for Jubilee, she's got to do laundry for the next month. It seems it was her idea to make a great banner welcoming me on the first day I was here. Unfortunately, she decided to use some sheets to do it and it didn't come out so Miss Munroe felt it was just punishment. I feel pretty bad for her_

_Kitty showed me around the grounds the other day and showed me the memorial to Professor Xavier, Jean Grey and Scott Summers. She told me how they all died but the saddest one had to be Jean. Turns out Mr. Logan was in love with her and he had to kill her because she went totally psycho and was killing everyone with her powers. I guess it explains why he's grumpy all the time. It was really sad, but now I understand why he seems so mad about everything._

_Having Kitty as a roommate has been the best. She likes to play practical jokes sometimes and this one time she decided to see what would happen if she switched Mr. Wagner's underwear drawer with Mr. Logan's because Mr. Wagner is so much smaller than Mr. Logan. So she went and filched all of Mr. Wagner's underwear and went to trade them with Mr. Logan's and found out he doesn't wear any! Now we can't look at Mr. Logan without giggling._

_Kitty is like the best friend that I used to have back when I was living with Mom in Miami. I know I could tell her anything and she won't go blabbing it all over the school. Jubilee on the other hand, you don't her tell anything to unless you want the entire school to know. Peter is the big quiet type and I still think he's really cute, but he and Kitty seem to have a bit of something so I guess he's a no go. There's a boy here name Bobby and he seems kind of sad all of the time and then Kitty told me his girlfriend, Rogue, well actually her name is Marie, took the Cure and so she left and he's really sad about it now. If there had been a clinic near my house I probably would have taken it too. Then those boys would still be alive._

_Miss Munroe and Mr. Logan have been working with me to try and control my powers. Right now they're just trying to make it so I can use my powers when I want to, not just when I'm angry or scared. I managed to do it a couple of times, but then I learned about the underwear thing and I'm having a really hard time not laughing when Mr. Logan is standing right there. Miss Munroe isn't too happy about that._

_Well, got to go. Hope you had a good week._

_Hugs,_

_Serena_

* * *

_To: NotGuilty1_

_From: LawyerGirl_

_Subject: Re: What a week_

_Hi Serena,_

_I'm glad to see you're making friends and hopefully you'll get a handle on your powers soon. I remember how terrified you were that you'd hurt the other girls while in prison. I can't tell you to just forget about those boys, but if the memory of what happened is still bothering you, please talk to Miss Munroe about it. As for Mr. Logan's underwear, or lack there of, there are certain things a sixteen year old girl should NOT know. Especially when it concerns one of her teachers. That being said, I hope I never have to face Mr. Logan again because I'll probably not be able to keep a straight face around him either._

_As for my own week, it's been very busy. I've three new clients that I'm working with and I've gotten enough mail to make Santa Clause green with envy. Luckily, most of it has been in support of me defending you. I have a feeling that I'll still be trying to get through it this time next year, but it's worth it knowing that you're happy._

_Stay well,_

_Amanda_

* * *

_To: LawyerGirl_

_From: NotGuilty1_

_Subject: HORSES!_

_Hi Amanda,_

_Did I tell you they have horses here? This is so cool. I remember being so in love with horses when I was a kid and I wanted one so bad but we couldn't afford one when it was just Mom and me and then Mom got married and we moved to New York and you can't have a horse as a pet when you live in an apartment. Kitty is going to teach me how to ride which is really cool. I never realized how much horses smell, but that's ok. I think I like it. Before I get to ride I have to learn to take care of them. They're not like a machine you can stick in a stall and take out whenever you want. And man there's a lot of work to be done, but when I finally got to ride one it was worth it. I could have ridden all day but when I got off the horse, man was my butt sore and sitting through my classes became a whole new experience. My teachers kept giving me dirty looks because I kept moving around in my seat during class. How do I explain that my butt hurts without everyone laughing at me?_

_Ambassador McCoy came by the other day to see Miss Munroe. Kitty spied on them when no one was looking and I know that's a bad thing and everything but he came all the way up here to ask her out on a date! He wanted to take her to some masquerade ball and she turned him down at first but then she changed her mind when he pointed out that the President will be there and it would help mutants if she came. I get the feeling that they used to date or something but now Miss Munroe seems to like Mr. Wagner and Mr. Wagner seems to like her but he's Mr. Religious so he never does anything but talk to her. How dull is that? But it does seem that Miss Munroe has a thing for blue guys. Ambassador McCoy has blue fur and Mr. Wagner has blue skin but both of them are really nice so I can kind of see why she likes them._

_Oops, time to get back to work._

_Hugs,_

_Serena_

* * *

_To: LawyerGirl_

_From: NotGuilty1_

_Subject: Re: HORSES!_

_Hi Serena,_

_Horses are great, but they are a lot of responsibility and keep in mind that they can have a mind of their own. As for saddle sores, as your body becomes accustomed to riding a horse, the muscles will build up making it easier to ride and a lot less sore in the morning. Try some liniment oil on where it hurts. It doesn't smell that great but it'll really help._

_I was recently invited to a masquerade ball myself, but I'm not sure if it's the same one that Ambassador McCoy is going to. If it is, then it would be nice to finally meet the gentleman. Stay well and study hard._

_Hugs,_

_Amanda_

* * *

Amanda wakes to the sound of a bird singing outside her window and lets out a huge yawn as she stretches. She lets out a contented sigh and slowly opens her eyes. She lazily looks out her bedroom window and can see the old elm tree out there with the last of its leaves still clinging to its branches. It's well past dawn and she's surprised that she slept so long since she has such a hard time sleeping with any kind of light in the room.

She feels almost like a little girl again, back in her old room and she smiles contentedly. She remembers the train trip down the night before and having brother-in-law pick her up at the train station. It's been months since she's been down for a visit and it felt wonderful that everyone had stayed up so late to see her when she arrived, the only exception being her nieces and nephew. She remembers being sort of glad that they had been sent to bed since she's not all that good with little kids and kind of sad that she didn't get to spoil them right off the bat.

With a mischievous smirk, to herself, she throws back the covers to her old bed and sits up letting out another huge yawn while she stretches. Grabbing some clothes from her bag, she heads for the bathroom and the smell of freshly baked muffins and fresh made coffee fills the hallway causing her to pause for a moment to sniff appreciatively. She's never managed to get the hang of cooking, though she can manage if she has too, but with all the prepackaged meals out there, why bother?

After a quick shower, she dresses in an old pair of jeans, woolen socks and a warm knit sweater and then trots downstairs. She passes the family room where the kids are glued to Saturday morning cartoons and they don't even notice her. She doesn't mind as she makes her way to the kitchen and hopefully some still warm muffins. She steps into the way too clean kitchen and sighs knowing that the muffins will be lukewarm at this point, if there are any left.

Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, she pours herself a cup of coffee, giving it a liberal dose of sugar and cream before peeking into a basket covered with a kitchen towel and finding it filled with blueberry muffins. She grabs one and upon discovering that they're still warm, she happily sighs. She puts her find on a plate and then heads for the kitchen table.

"Well look who finally dragged her lazy bones out of bed," a voice teases from behind her as she sits down.

"Good morning, Annie," Amanda greets her sister without turning around.

"Mom and I are going out to run some errands," Annie announces with a very serious tone.

"Have fun," Amanda replies as she takes a sip of her coffee.

"There will be no giving candy, junk food, sodas or anything else that has the first ingredient of sugar to my children," Annie states in a tone that brooks no argument.

"What ever you say, sis," Amanda says, taking a big bite of her muffin to hide her smile.

"I can hear you smirking from here," Annie growls.

"I an not snirking," Amanda tries to reply around her food and hastily swallows. "I am not smirking."

"Come on, Annie, we need to get going before half the world shows up at the store," their mother, Cathy, states as she comes into the kitchen and goes over to give Amanda a kiss on the cheek. "Amy, don't torment your sister. Keep your junk food in your room."

"Yes, Mom," Amanda agrees as she leans into her mother's kiss.

"Come on, Annie, staring holes in your sister isn't going to do any good," Cathy insists as she grabs the car keys. "We'll be back in time for lunch. Have the kids play outside after their done rotting their brains in front of the TV."

"Will do," the voice of their father, Stuart, responds just before kissing his wife goodbye. "Have fun you two."

"Bye, Dad," Annie says, an underlying snarl in her voice, as she follows Cathy out the door.

Amanda continues eating her breakfast quietly as she hears her father pour himself anther cup of coffee. She doesn't even look up when he takes a seat across from her at the table and they sit in companionable silence. A moment later they hear the door to the garage open and close and the smile that's been threatening to break out causes Amanda's lips to twitch.

"You have no intention of listening to your sister, do you?" he asks.

"Were you aware that sugar is the _third_ ingredient in a Twinkie?" she counter questions. "And if, say, I go for a walk, how do I stop the kids from going into my room and raiding my supply of snacks?"

"You know, I thought this adolescent behavior stopped at the end of adolescence," he says with an amused look on his face, taking a sip from his cup. "So what are your plans for today?"

"Today, I'll check my email, take a walk, have some lunch, take a nap, maybe go for a ride," she replies with a relaxed smile. "You know nothing strenuous."

"Your sister is helping your mother," he points out.

"I was told to relax and that's what I'm doing," she replies as she takes her now empty dishes and puts them in the dishwasher. "The past few months have been hell, Dad, and I need a break. If Annie wants helps Mom with the party, then that's her business, but I'm staying out of it."

"Party?" he inquires nervously. "What party?"

"Dad, don't lie to a lawyer," she playfully warns as she heads back to her room.

A few minutes later and she's firing up her computer as she's conveniently stashing a box of Twinkies where the kids are sure to find them while the machine warms up. Then she carefully hides the spare box out of reach and out of sight. Once that's done, she sits down at her old desk and opens her email.

After getting rid of the regular junk, she sees an email from Serena and a grin stretches her lips. The girl's enthusiasm is contagious and her emails always lift Amanda's spirits, especially when she questions her choices. Of all the choices she's made in life, helping this girl when no one else would was definitely one that she'll never regret.

* * *

_To: LawyerGirl_

_From: NotGuilty1_

_Subject: The Cure_

_Hi,_

_The other morning we were supposed to be learning some self defense moves from Mr. Logan and as we were going outside to practice the phone rang and Mr. Logan answered it. He didn't talk much just asked the other person where he or she was and then hung up. He told us class was canceled and then took off. Next thing we know he goes tearing out of the garage in this little blue sports car. This made Miss Munroe come out of her class and she wasn't happy when found us all just standing around so she made us go clean up one of the empty class rooms. That wasn't any fun._

_Anyway, around dinner time, Mr. Logan came back and he had someone with him. Everyone went outside to see what was going on and a pretty girl got out of the car with him and Bobby just about knocked Peter over to get to her. She was crying a lot and she looked like hell and Bobby just tried to hug her but she wouldn't let him touch her and then she went running in the house and locked herself in one of the bathrooms._

_Remember how I told you the other day about that girl who took the Cure? Well, she's back here at school because the Cure didn't work! Her powers came back and now Mr. Logan is really in a bad mood and Bobby isn't much better and a lot of people are walking around like someone died, even Jubilee isn't talking all that much. I guess it's just as well I didn't do it then, huh? The Cure I mean. I'd hate to find out the hard way that my powers came back. I'd hate to think how many people would get killed and how many of them would have been innocent little kids or something. _

_No one's been getting much sleep the past few nights and everyone is on edge. Kitty almost never talks to me now and she's practically living in Rogue's and Jubilee's room now. I've tried to talk to the others but it's like I'm invisible now and no one knows I'm here. I know the world doesn't revolve around me and everything, but everyone is all worried about Rogue and I don't want to hate her but it's hard not to. It's like I don't exist any more._

_The other night I had a bad dream and I ended up pushing Kitty's bed across the room and making a hole in the wall. Luckily Kitty wasn't in it and I was able to rearrange the furniture a bit so no one noticed the hole and Kitty didn't notice I had moved things. Then the night before last I ended up having that nightmare again and I completely destroyed my dresser on accident. Miss Munroe was furious and said that I had to do without a dresser until I get my powers completely under control so all my stuff is in boxes again. Just like it was when I went to my parent's place. It feels like they're going to ship me off someplace so I'm not in the way any more. The really sucky thing is that when I totaled the dresser, I blew up the only picture I have of my grandparents. God, I miss them. I wish I was living with them now._

_This sucks. I'm not sure I want to be here any more._

_Serena_

* * *

Amanda reads the email a couple more times and each time the knot in her stomach grows bigger and tighter. She gets up from her seat with such speed that she knocks her chair to the floor. Quickly finding her purse, she roots around in it until she finds what she wants. She scrolls through the programmed numbers in her phone so fast that she actually passes it by and has to go back. She hits the send button and then puts the phone to her ear, impatiently tapping her foot as she wait for call to go through.

"Xavier's School," a young voice says after the third ring.

"Good morning, this is Amanda Simon," Amanda announces pleasantly despite her growing nervousness. "May I speak to Serena Song, please?"

"Yeah, sure," the kid responds and Amanda isn't sure if the voice belongs to a girl or a boy. "Hold on."

Amanda hears the handset being put down on the table and then someone walking off. After about a minute of waiting, she starts to pace, finally picking her chair up off of the floor during one of her passes. She can hear people in the background talking and walking by and every time someone gets close to the phone her hopes start to rise only to have them dashed again as the footsteps fade away. After nearly ten minutes of waiting, she hears running feet and shouting and what she hears next, makes her blood run cold.

"Someone find Storm!"

"Why?"

"Serena's missing!"


	7. Lost

**Author's Notes:** Again, another big thank you to nobodyhome, here's another chapter just for you.

* * *

She can't move, she can't breathe and she can't think. Fear and anger wage war inside of her as she waits for someone to finally pick up the other end. As she does, those three words keep spinning round in her head. 

_Serena is missing._

Necessity forces Amanda to draw air into her lungs and her brain starts to slowly function. What was she thinking? She agreed to let them take her if she won the case because they convinced her that they were the best. No, not them. Her.

Ororo Munroe called her shortly after it was announced that Amanda was taking the case and waiving her lawyer's fee simply claiming that she wanted to see justice properly carried out. Munroe spent literally hours on the phone with the attorney and countless emails talking Amanda into allowing the school to take Serena into its care once she was free. She read the brochure that had been mailed to her and studied it very carefully, trying to read between the lines. Amanda was promised that the girl would have a good home with people who would care about her, keep her safe and help her control her powers.

Now everything she had worked so hard for, the hours spent in the library, the nearly sleepless nights writing up her defense, silently enduring Mr. Steele and his animosity, even begging her sister for help had all been for naught. Serena is missing and could be god knows where. And then a new feeling hits: guilt.

She's the one who believed Munroe's words. She's the one who ultimately agreed to have the guardianship papers drawn up. She's the one who let them take Serena away with promises on their lips, but it seems lies in their hearts.

"Miss Simon?"

The sound of a voice in her ear snaps her out of her reverie and she suddenly stops pacing her room, an activity she hadn't even been aware she had resumed.

"Yes?" she replies, barely avoiding snapping at the person on the other end.

"I'm afraid Serena can't come to the phone right now," a man's voice tells her.

"May I speak to Miss Munroe please?" she requests, politely, but firmly.

"I'm afraid Miss Munroe is busy right now," he replies, a superior tone in his voice.

"May I ask to whom I am speaking?" she inquires, still polite, but firm and only just holding onto her anger.

"This is Warren Worthington the third," the man replies with that same superior tone. "I'm one of the teachers here."

"Mr. Worthington, would you be so kind as to deliver a message to Miss Munroe for me?" she asks, feeling the hand holding the phone start to shake.

"Of course," he responds.

"Tell Miss Munroe if anything, _anything_, happens to Serena that I will personally make her life a legal nightmare," she snarls through clenched teeth before snapping her phone shut.

She stuffs her cell phone into her pocket, hastily puts on her tennis shoes and grabs a light jacket before charging out of her room. She flies down the stairs and through the house, ignoring the calls of her nieces and nephew as she slams out the back door. She's not sure where she's going and quite frankly, she doesn't really care.

* * *

Warren gently returns the handset to the cradle and slightly scowls at the phone, his feathers ruffling. A movement of air behind him is all of the announcement he needs to know that he's no longer alone in the hall. 

"That the lawyer lady on the phone," Logan asks around the butt of an unlit cigar.

"Yes, and she's threatening law suit if we don't find Serena," Angel calmly tells him.

"Damn lawyers, more trouble than they're worth," Logan quietly growls. "Storm know?"

"Not yet, I just hung up," Angel replies. "Or more precisely, I was hung up on."

"Well, we better get to the dining room," Logan states as he starts to move silently. "Storm has got her panties in a right twist over this."

"I'm afraid my news is not likely to improve her mood either," Angel sadly responds.

The two men make their way to the dining room where all of the students are already gathered. Angel and Logan take up positions at the back of the room under Kurt who hangs upside down from the ceiling. The room is almost silent with only the sounds of quiet murmuring voices, people shifting in their seats and the occasional cough.

About a minute after Angel and Logan's arrival, Storm walks in wearing her X-Men uniform looking none to happy and with Kitty dejectedly behind her. Kitty quickly sits down next to Peter looking like she wants to climb under a rock and hide. The large mutant puts an arm around her shoulders and gives her a reassuring hug.

"Ok, folks, Kitty's just gone over the surveillance tapes and it seems Serena left a little after midnight," Storm announces without preamble. "Now the front gate hasn't been opened and none of the walls have been breached, so she's either still on the grounds or she got out some other way. I want people to break up in teams of two, older students with younger, and take your communicators with you. We're going to cover every square inch of the grounds until we find her or find where she's got out. Angel and I will be covering the surrounding properties, Nightcrawler will remain here in case she returns or calls and Wolverine will try to track her. Are there any questions?"

"Which door did she go out?" Logan asks.

"Back," Storm answers.

"Any idea where she might go?" Logan inquires.

There's silence for about a minute until Kitty hesitantly raises her hand.

"Yes, Kitty?" Storm prompts.

"She's mentioned her grandparents a couple of times," Kitty softly states, not looking at anyone in particular. "When she destroyed her dresser the thing she was most upset about was that she wrecked the picture she had of them."

"Any idea where they live?" Logan questions the girl.

"Miami," Kitty answers.

"Then I'll head south," Logan states just before he turns and leaves the room.

"Ok, people, get your communicators and pair up," Storm instructs. "We'll meet up on the north lawn in five minutes."

There's a lot of noise as the students rise to their feet and go off to get their communicators. Storm watches them as older students pick younger ones to work with and they slowly file out of the room. As the last of the stragglers leave, Warren walks up to Storm as Nightcrawler simply appears next to her.

"I got off the phone with Miss Simon a little while ago," Warren says. "She's threatening legal troubles if anything should happen to the girl."

Storm lets out a sigh and closes her eyes.

"Damn," she whispers and opens her eyes again. "Then we better find her. Kurt…"

"I shall remain ever vigilant," Kurt promises just before he disappears in a puff of smoke.

"Come on, Warren, let's go keep our butts out of legal hot water," she grumbles as she turns to leave.

"I don't understand why she left," he muses as he follows her out of the dining room.

"Kitty says that she and Serena got into a fight last night after dinner," Storm says as they walk down a corridor. "I have a feeling this all has to do with Rogue's return."

"She was pretty happy in calculus on Monday and that was before Rogue's return," Angel muses as they go out the front door. "But yesterday in economics, she was very sullen."

"When we get her back, I'm going to have to sit down and have a long talk with that girl," Storm states as they head towards the students already gathered on the lawn.

"If we get her back," Angel mumbles to himself.

* * *

With a sniff, Serena gets up off the ground where she had been resting with her back against a tree, grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder. She brushes herself off and continues walking south using the sun as her guided while trying to ignore her tired muscles and hurting feet. She sniffs again and angrily wipes away an errant tear, trying to forget everything that's happened over the past several days, especially what happened last night. 

Scene change

"Hey, Kitty, do you think you could help me with my history homework?" Serena asked, sitting on her bed with her book and notes spread around her. "There's a test on Monday and I don't want to fail."

"Sorry, I promised Rogue I'd help her get caught up," Kitty answered, heading for the door.

"But you've been over there every night since she got back," Serena pointed out, trying not to sound like a petulant child.

"I told Rogue I would help her," Kitty repeated.

"Can't someone else help her for a change?" Serena demanded.

"Well, why don't you get someone else to help you?" Kitty snapped. "I'm not your personal tutor, you know."

"No, you're Rogue's," Serena yelled back. "Ever since she got here you've been spending every minute with her."

"So, what? You want me to pick between you and her?" Kitted shouted heatedly. "Because I'll tell you right now, I'll pick her."

With that, Kitty spun on her heel and marched through the wall, leaving Serena there alone in their room again. By the time lights out was called, Serena's bag was already packed and hiding under her bed. Kitty came back long enough to be there for the bed check and then disappeared through the wall again back to Rogue's room once it was safe to do so. Serena laid there until she was sure everyone was asleep and then took her leave of a place that obviously didn't want her.

* * *

"Logan, have you had any luck?" Storm's voice crackles over the link. 

"Yeah, I got her scent," he replies as he balances on top of the stone wall. "She went over the south wall. She's headin' south alright, but there's no tellin' if she circled back so keep checkin' the grounds just in case."

"Alright," she agrees. "I'm going to send Warren in your direction to give you aerial coverage."

"I don't need Tweetie to cover my back," Logan snarls as he leaps off the wall.

"I heard that," Angel states, less than pleased.

"Good," Logan growls as he picks up the scent again and starts out in an easy jog.

"Logan," Storm warns. "I'm sending Warren your way to help you find her. He's going to be able to see her long before you do."

"How long can you stay up in the air, Tweetie?" Logan asks.

"A couple hours, three if I catch a good updraft," Angel answers proudly.

"The kid has more than a ten hour head start on us and the scent isn't that strong," Logan points out as he pauses at a roadside long enough to make sure he doesn't get hit. "I don't see me comin' across her for several more hours and that's _if_ she hasn't hitched a ride. You think Birdbrain can last that long?"

"Fine," Storm sighs. "I want you to call as soon as you see her and we'll home in on your location. Is that understood?"

"Yeah, yeah," Logan grumbles as he hurdles over a guardrail and continues running down an embankment.

* * *

"SHE DID IT AGAIN!" 

Cathy just shakes her head and gives a soft chuckle as Annie's indignant shriek fades away. A second later and heavy footsteps can be heard as someone comes charging down the stairs. Cathy catches sight of Stuart sneaking out of the house out of the corner of her eye.

"Coward," she mutters just as Annie comes flying into the kitchen, cellophane wrappers clutched in her hand.

"She did it again, Mom," Annie nearly yells, waving the wrappers towards her mother.

"Honey, if you didn't react so, she'd probably stop doing it," Cathy reminds her as she goes back to getting lunch ready. "She does it because she knows it drives you crazy."

"She's evil," Annie states as she marches over to the garbage can and tosses the wrappers. "That explains why she became a lawyer. She's evil."

"Annie…," Cathy tries to start.

"I feed my children good, wholesome foods and what does she do?" Annie continues her tirade. "She gives them sugar. She's evil."

"Annie, it's not like she gets to see the kids that often," Cathy reminds her. "A little sugar every once and a while isn't going to hurt them. Speaking of Amy, have you seen her since we got home?"

"No, and she better pray that I don't," Annie snarls as she filches a carrot stick from the cutting board.

A moment later three little bodies come barreling into the kitchen.

"Mom, they won't stop bugging me," Paul complains.

"Girls, stop bothering your brother," Annie tells her daughters.

"Yes, Mom," the girls say in unison just before turning and running out of the kitchen.

Mike walks in and barely manages to get out of the way by flattening himself against the wall as the twins barrel past him and out the back door.

"Mom, can I play on the computer?" Paul asks.

"It's almost lunch time, honey," Annie answers as she lovingly brushes his bangs out of his green eyes. "By the time you got the computer up and the game running you'd have to turn it off."

"Not if I use Aunt Amy's computer," Paul tells her. "Hers is already turned on."

"Then you'll have to ask your Aunt Amy," Annie points out.

"I can't," the eleven year old replies. "She took off a couple hours ago."

"Did she say where she was going?" Annie asks.

"No, but she looked really mad about something," Paul answers. "It might have something to do with that email she got."

"Paul, have you been playing on your aunt's computer without permission?" Annie demands.

"Yes," the boy admits, hanging his head in shame.

"In that case, you can just forget about playing on the computer today, mister," Annie tells him

"Aw man, that's not fair," Paul whines.

"Go wash your hands," Annie instructs turning the boy around. "And when Aunt Amy comes back you'll apologize for playing with her computer and reading her email without her permission."

"That's not fair!" Paul yells before storming out of the kitchen and Annie sighs.

"I thought I heard the lovely screams of my wife," Mike says as he steps up to Annie.

"She did it again," Annie grumbles and he chuckles as he kisses her forehead.

"What was it this time?" he asks. "Ho-Hos? Ding-Dongs?"

"Twinkies," Annie growls.

"Ah, her favorite," he chuckles as he wraps his arm around his wife's shoulders. "Someday she'll have kids of her own and then we'll get to return the favor."

Annie gets a wicked smile on her face and chuckles so deep and low in her throat that it sounds more like a purr than a laugh.

* * *

"Still no sign of her?" Annie asks worriedly as she steps out onto the back porch next to her mother. 

"No," Cathy answers, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. "Annie…"

"I know," Annie interrupts. "Sunset is in a little over an hour."

"I wouldn't ask, but the kids said she was really upset and Paul mentioned something about an email," Cathy states.

"Alright," Annie sighs as she turns back towards the house. "Let me go get changed and then I'll go look for her. She better be hurt or so help me I'm going to bite her on the butt."

Cathy gives Annie a sad smile before the younger woman goes back into the house. A few minutes later something large and black brushes past Cathy's leg and the woman doesn't even blink as she continues to stare at the woods and the darkening sky.

* * *

How many times did her mother tell her not to talk to strangers? How many times did she tell her not to accept a ride from a stranger? To many to count, yet here she is on the side of a road with her thumb out hoping for some relief for her tired legs and aching feet. 

_What the hell did she know?_ Serena thinks uncharitably. _She let that bastard throw me out after saving her baby._

She trudges on along the side of the road, sticking her arm out whenever she hears a car's engine, which admittedly isn't all that often. She glances at the sun low in the sky off to her right and she's about ready to collapse, but she knows that she needs to keep going. She's not sure how long she's been walking, it feels like forever and she's even too tired to cry.

She hears a car and she sticks her arm out even though it feels like there's a twenty pound weight attached to it. She doesn't get her hopes up, but she then the sound of the car slowing down actually brings her head up to look and sure enough, the car is pulling over to the side of the road. Her hopes start to soar until she gets a good look at the car and then her stomach drops to her feet while her hope fades away with the breeze.


	8. Found

**Author's Notes:** Thank you, nobodyathome for your review. If it wasn't for you, this story wouldn't be getting updated. I really need to get back to my other stories, so it'll be a while before this one gets another chapter, but it won't get one at all if it doesn't get a review.

* * *

Amanda looks out over the valley from her vantage point and sighs when she sees a familiar form moving through the trees towards her. 

"You didn't have to come out here," Amanda states as she rubs her back against the trunk of the tree to scratch an itch. "I do know my way home."

"You had Mom worried," Annie growls in response. "You could have left a note or something."

"Sorry," Amanda replies, not moving from her perch. "I was too upset when I left to think about it."

"Did you bring your cell phone?" Annie asks, stopping under the tree Amanda's in.

"The trees are blocking the signal," Amanda answers shifting slightly on her branch.

"So what sent you into such a snit?" Annie inquires as she sits at the base of the trunk.

"I failed her, Annie," Amanda responds sadly. "I screwed up big time."

"What happened?" Annie asks softly.

"I sent Serena to that school and now she's run away," Amanda quietly replies.

"Xavier's is the best," Annie firmly states as she starts to bunch the muscles in her legs. "You and I both know that."

"It was when Xavier was there," Amanda points out, ignoring the sound of a large body hitting the tree and claws digging into the bark. "I'm not so sure now."

"Why don't you start from the beginning," Annie suggests as she settles on a nearby branch.

Still watching the lengthening shadows over the valley, Amanda tells her sister about the emails and the phone call. By the time she's done, the valley is mostly covered in shadow and a cool wind has picked up.

"Did I waste my time?" Amanda quietly asks. "Was everything I went through for nothing if she's not happy?"

"She's a hormonal teenager," Annie reminds her. "There's not much you can do about keeping them constantly happy. I'm sure once everything settles down things will get back to normal. Or as normal as that place can get."

"I suppose," Amanda sighs.

"Feel better?" Annie asks as she gets up and prepares to leap out of the tree.

"Yeah, I guess so," Amanda answers. "Thanks

"Good, now let's go home," Annie says just before she jumps and gracefully lands on all fours. "I'm freezing my tail off out here."

"How can you be freezing?" Amanda demands as she swings her legs over to one side of the branch. "You've got a fur coat on."

"What do I look like to you? A snow leopard?" Annie sarcastically asks her, her black fur bristling and her ears lying back against her head. "The Serengeti isn't known for its cold winters. Are you coming or not?"

"You've still got a fur coat on," Amanda repeats as she pushes off and experiences a couple of seconds of thrill in free fall before she lands with a grunt. "That was a lot easier when I was a kid."

"Well maybe if you lay off the Twinkies…," Annie teases as she starts heading home.

"Now, now, don't be catty…," Amanda smirks, giving as good as she gets.

"Which reminds me, you left your Twinkies where the kids could find them again," Annie snarls, her tail twitching irritably.

"Is it my fault they keep sneaking into my room?" Amanda inquires innocently as she follows the black leopard in front of her. "So, what's for dinner?"

"I don't know, but there better be a lot of meat," Annie grumbles. "Lots and lots of red meat."

"And then you'll go to bed for the next twelve hours or so," Amanda adds as she catches up to walk next to her sister. "Guess I won't be the only one sleeping in tomorrow. But it's our birthday so we should be allowed to wallow in bed. Hell, at least you have someone who'll bring you breakfast in bed."

"I've been meaning to ask you what happened to Jeff," Annie replies.

"I came home on the day I won Serena's case and found him coming out of Bobbi's bedroom with his pants barely on," Amanda tells her and then sighs. "What's wrong with me, Annie? Am I such a horrible person that no guy wants to be around me for more than a few months?"

"You're asking the person who's children you just snuck Twinkies too?" Annie demands before she too sighs. "I don't know, Amy. I just know that when I met Mike and he didn't mind what I am, I was the luckiest girl in the world. Just hang in there, sis. There's someone out there for you."

"But how long do I have to wait?" Amanda rhetorically asks with a sigh.

"Why the sudden rush to find a husband?" Annie questions.

"While I was sitting up there thinking it just dawned on me that I'm turning thirty tomorrow and I don't even have a pet goldfish for company," Amanda answers. "Maybe that's why I put up with Bobbi for so long. I didn't want to come home to an empty apartment. Maybe I should get a pet. Of course that would make finding another apartment even harder."

"Amy, you can't even keep a cactus alive, please don't get a pet," Annie begs.

"I suppose that's why I can't keep a guy interested in me either," Amanda replies sadly. "I'm too distracted with my work. I worked so hard to get where I am and now I find it's not enough. What am I going to do?"

"Learn a little patience," Annie tells her as they step out of the trees and start to cross the clearing towards the house. "It'll happen when it happens."

"I know, but…," Amanda starts only to be interrupted by her cell phone going off and she quickly fishes it out of her pocket. "Hello?"

"Miss Simon?" a woman's voice asks.

"Yes?" Amanda responds.

"This is Ororo Munroe," Storm states. "The police picked up Serena a little while ago."

"Thank god," Amanda says, breathing a sigh of relief. "Is she alright?"

"Well, she hasn't been examined by a doctor yet, but she was hitchhiking when they picked her up," Storm answers. "I'll have her examined by a doctor as soon as I can, but the fact that she was walking when they picked her up is a pretty good sign that she's ok."

"Good," Amanda replies. "I would like her to call me tomorrow when she gets a chance."

"I'll have her do that," Storm agrees.

"Thank you," Amanda says. "I'll let you go now. Good night."

"Good night," Storm replies and hangs up.

"Well, the police picked Serena up while she was hitchhiking," Amanda announces as she closes her phone and puts it back in her pocket.

"That's good," Annie replies. "Now, do you think the police are going to save you from Mom and Dad?"

"What?" Amanda questions and then looks up, seeing their parents standing on the back porch, neither looking overly happy. "Uh oh. Maybe I'll hide back in my tree."

"You do and I'll bite your butt so hard that you won't sit for a week," Annie growls as she breaks into a trot.

Stuart opens the back door to let Annie in before turning back to his other daughter.

"Do you have any idea how worried we were, young lady?" Cathy demands, her fists firmly planted on her hips.

"I'm sorry I worried you," Amanda calmly replies, easily sliding into lawyer mode. "But please give yourselves some credit for raising a daughter who can look after herself."

While her parents stand there trying to figure out how to respond to that, Amanda slips past them and into the house.

* * *

Her scent is much stronger now and he knows he's close so he puts on a bit more speed. Logan slices his way through some undergrowth and then steps out onto the asphalt of yet another road. Sweaty and pissed as hell, he stops and glares at the car pulled over to the side of the road on the other side. A young man with brown hair and blue eyes leans against the vehicle making ice sculptures to pass the time. 

"What are you doing here, ice cube?" Logan growls, his eye's narrowing.

"The police picked Serena up about an hour ago," Bobby answers congenially as he continues to work on his ice swan. "Storm's on her way to pick her up now."

"She ok?" Logan asks.

"Yeah, but pretty worn out from what I heard," Bobby replies, holding up his creation so it glows with the last rays of the setting sun.

"Good, 'cause when I get my hands on her I'm gonna kick her ass," Logan snarls as he pushes Bobby out of the way and gets behind the wheel.

"Sure, Logan, you can drive, since you asked so nice," Bobby says sarcastically, shaking his head as he pulls the keys out of his pocket and tosses them to Logan.

Logan just glares at him as he sticks the key into the ignition. Bobby goes around the car and gets in the other side, dropping his swan on the ground and watching it shatter into a million pieces. Logan starts the engine and then lays rubber as he heads back to the mansion while Bobby is still getting his seatbelt on.

"Would have been nice if someone had contacted me to let me know she'd been found," Logan growls low in his throat.

"Tried to, but you didn't respond," Bobby tells him. "Either you were somewhere where the signal couldn't reach or you lost it or you damaged it. Since you pretty much have to be like a mile underground for the signal not to reach you, I'm guessing you lost it, but most people are betting you damaged it. Good thing your locator isn't attached to it or would've had to send out search parties to try and find you."

"Nice," Logan mumbles and Bobby just grins at him. "Any one call that lawyer?"

"Yeah, Storm called her right after she got the call from the police," Bobby answers. "Serena's supposed to call her sometime tomorrow. Storm also called Beast and asked him to come up to check on her so he'll be getting here later tonight."

"Jeez, the furball finally remembers how to get back to the mansion and now we can't get rid of him," Logan grumbles.

"Rumor has it that he and Storm used to be close," Bobby nonchalantly states. "Real close."

"And I wanted to know this, why?" Logan growls.

"Just keeping you up to date," Bobby tells him with a shrug. "Of course, ever since Kurt joined the team, she's been kind of soft on him but she did agree to go to that big party down in DC with Hank, so who knows."

"Regular bleedin' soap opera," Logan mumbles to himself.

A few minutes later, they're pulling into the garage and as they're getting out, Storm arrives. She parks out on the driveway and Logan marches towards them with a bit of mayhem on his mind. He rather forcefully yanks the door open, but before he can move towards the girl in the passenger seat, Kurt appears in front of him with the smell of brimstone surrounding him. He wraps his arms around the girl and they both disappear in a puff of smoke and a loud 'bamf'. With a growl, Logan spins on his heel towards the front doors and the few people who came wandering out the door quickly move to the side.

"LOGAN!" Storm snaps causing Logan to look back over his shoulder with his eyes narrowed. "Leave her alone. She's asleep so yelling at her won't do any good."

"It'll make me feel better," Logan snarls.

"Go take a shower, Logan," Storm orders. "Yelling at her isn't going to accomplish anything."

Logan scowls at her for a few moments longer before heading into the mansion. Once he's through the door, Storm gets back into the car and drives it into the garage. As soon as she's parked, she cuts the engine, closes the garage door and then leans her head against the steering wheel with a sigh. A few moments later the car shifts and the smell of brimstone is once more evident.

"Is she still sleeping?" she asks without looking up.

"Ja, ze _liebchen _sleeps," Kurt replies in his heavy German accent. "Peter vill vatch over her until Herr Beast can be here."

"Where'd you put her?" she inquires as she finally sits back and looks at the other mutant.

"In ze infirmary," he answers, gazing back at her, his yellow eyes kind and gentle.

"I guess we'll keep her there for now until we can get to the bottom of this," she sighs as she leans her head back against the headrest. "Thank you for holding down the fort during this whole mess."

"_Keine ursache,_" he responds with a kind smile making her smile in return.

* * *

A couple hours after sunset, a lone car pulls up to the mansion and Storm goes out to meet it. A moment after the engine is killed and the headlights turned off, Hank steps out of the vehicle. Without a word she walks up to him and wraps her arms around his middle and sighs with relief. He gladly returns the embrace of his dear friend remembering a time when these hugs meant more. He quickly pushes away those painful memories as he gives her a gentle squeeze before she steps back. 

"Thanks for coming, Hank," she says with a small smile as he gets an overnight bag out of the car.

"I could do nothing less," he assures her as they start to head inside. "Where is she now?"

"She's sleeping in the infirmary still," she answers while they make their way through the corridors.

"Still sleeping?" he questions.

"The police said they put her in a holding cell, she crawled onto the bench and fell asleep," she replies just as they reach the hidden elevator. "She didn't even wake up when I came to get her. They at least were nice enough to carry her out to the car for me."

"She's obviously exhausted then," he states as the elevator starts to take them down. "I wonder how dehydrated she is and she will probably be ravenous when she does awaken."

"We found a large bottle of water that was about half empty and some apples and oranges in her bag," she tells him just as the doors open and they exit the elevator. "Logan says he also smelled peanut butter and jelly though we're guessing she had already eaten that when she was picked up."

"It's good to know that she at least took some provisions with her," he muses as they travel the underground corridors.

"Well, when she got kicked out of her home, she only had the shirt on her back," she replies as they reach the infirmary. "I guess she took that into consideration when she packed her bag. She had a few days with of clothes, some toiletries and food."

"Smart girl," he observes with a nod as he drops his bag by the door before they walk over to the examination table Nightcrawler left Serena on.

They watch the sleeping girl who's curled up on her side for a few moments. She's still wearing her torn and dirty clothes, though her grubby, worn tennis shoes are off to the side of the room and there are a few pieces of twigs and leaves caught in her shoulder length brown hair. Hank slips his half moon glasses on before he reaches down and removes a couple leaves and examines them for a moment and then throwing them away.

"I will need to run a diagnostic on her," he states as he pulls the light blanket off of her.

He sets to doing the job he was asked to do silently while Storm watches from the side. After getting Serena properly arranged on the exam table, he pushes a few buttons and the table with her on it slides into the machine to run the diagnostic. While the machine is doing its job, he turns back to his old girlfriend.

"You know, you could have done the diagnostic without me," he points out.

"I told Miss Simon that I'd have a doctor look at her," she replies sounding a bit peeved.

"You don't sound happy about this," he responds.

"She threatened law suit if anything happened to Serena," she grumbles, leaning against the wall.

"Ah, the fall back of all lawyers it seems," he sighs as he checks the machine briefly to make sure everything is running smoothly. "When all else fails, threaten law suit."

"She's a hard woman to deal with too," she admits. "I just about had to fight her tooth and nail to get the right to take Serena and then the girl has to go and do something like this. I tell you, this is turned into one big headache."

"Any idea why she ran?" he asks.

"No, but we think it has something to do with Rogue's return and Kitty," she answers. "At the beginning of the week she was happy. Then Rouge returned and by Friday Serena was very sullen. I had Serena bunking with Kitty and they had a fight last night so that was probably the straw that broke the camel's back. Other than that, we're not sure why she took off like that."

"Ah, teenage angst," he sighs. "And this too shall pass."

"That doesn't help, you know," she points out.

"I know, but that's all I can give you," he replies as the machine beeps its completion and the table slides out of the device. "If someone could find a cure for teenage angst, they'd be rich beyond their wildest dreams."

"Maybe Worthington Industries could work on something," she snarls. "Not like the Cure worked out real well for them."

"It would be a much more worthwhile venture then their last one," he muses as he starts to look at the readings the computer is giving him.

"So how is she?" she asks.

"Exhausted, a bit dehydrated and she's going to be very sore when she wakes up," he answers as he walks over to her feet and slips her socks off. "She's not going to want to walk any time soon if these blisters are anything to go by."

Storm walks over to him, looking down at Serena's feet; she hisses and cringes in sympathetic pain at the sight of the blisters covering the teenager's feet. He carefully picks the girl up and takes her into the adjoining room where more comfortable beds are set up. He gets her settled into one and then starts pushing buttons on a screen above the bed. A moment later, her vital signs are shown on the screen and he heads for a nearby cabinet.

"I'm going to give her some fluids," he states as he takes out a bag of saline solution and a needle. "I don't want her alone when she wakes up so I'll stay in here with her."

"What are you going to do?" she questions as he steps back into the infirmary.

"I brought some books and magazines I've been meaning to read with me," he replies as he retrieves his bag.

"What if you get tired?" she inquires.

"There are plenty of beds in here," he responds as he drops his bag on the one next to Serena's.

"Would you like me to send someone to relieve you later?" she asks as he gets the IV drip set up.

"No, I think it's best if I'm the one here when she awakens," he answers while he finishes up. "I'm an impartial third party, so maybe she'll open up to me and tell me what's going on."

"I wish Charles was still here," she quietly states and he goes to give her a comforting hug.

"Now go get some rest," he instructs when they finally separate. "I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this by tomorrow."

"Would you like anything to eat?" she inquires.

"I got something on the way up here," he replies as he opens his bag and pulls out a magazine.

"Well, holler if you need anything," she insists as she slowly moves to the door.

"I will," he assures her. "Good night, Ororo."

"Good night, Hank," she replies as she finally leaves.

He takes his shoes off as he hears the outer door open and close announcing her departure. With a sigh of sad regret, he leans back on the bed, gets comfortable and starts to read his magazine. A short time later, the magazine is lying on his chest and his soft snores fill the room while Serena simply sighs in her sleep and rolls over.

The magazine is gently tugged out from under on of Hank's large hands and then placed on the small table next to the bed. A moment later, his glasses are carefully folded up on top of the magazine and a blanket is pulled over his sleeping form. A dark skinned hand softly caresses his face before she lowers the lights and leaves the room.

"His snores still sound like he's purring," Storm chuckles as she makes her way to her own bed.

* * *

_Keine ursache_ – German, you're welcome 

_liebchen - _German, darling

_Ja_ – German, yes


	9. Morning

**Author's notes:** Thank you Ratdogtwo and nobody(at)home for your reviews, they mean the world to me. I still need to work on my other stories, but please leave a review.

* * *

Amanda wakes to the sound of rhythmic thumping against her bedroom wall and muffled moans. It takes her sleep fogged brain a minute to figure out what's going on and with a groan she rolls over, pulling a pillow on top of her head. It takes several more moments for it to register that she's not in her apartment and it's not Bobbi making those noises.

She practically shoots out of bed, grabs her robe and slippers and moves as quickly and as quietly as she can out of her room. She tiptoes down the stairs in an attempt not to wake anyone, pulling on her robe as she goes and heads for the kitchen. She checks the coffee pot and thanks God that her father always sets everything up the night before so all she has to do is turn the thing on.

While the java is brewing, she finally puts her slippers on her quickly chilling feet, pulls a mug out of the cupboard and puts in the requisite amount of sugar and cream in her semi-awake state. After cleaning up the spilt sugar and cream that her tired brain couldn't aim properly, the coffee pot is only half full and that's good enough for her. Knowing the spout closes when there's no carafe in the machine, she pulls out the pot and pours herself a cup.

She puts the carafe back where it belongs and then just stands there sniffing her coffee. Once she's sufficiently awake, she takes her coffee out onto the front porch and sits on the swing to watch the sunrise. When the sun is about half way up, the front door opens and her father comes out with his own cup of coffee.

"Morning," he greets as he sits down beside her.

"Morning," she replies.

"Happy birthday," he says with a kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you," she responds, not really taking her eyes off of the lovely view in front of her.

"Something wrong?" he asks in concern.

"Tired," she answers. "Confused. I like being a lawyer, but…"

"But?" he prompts after a few moments of silence.

"I know there's more out there, but I don't know how to get it," she admits with a sigh. "I'm thirty and I don't want to be alone anymore."

"Dear lord, don't let your mother hear you say that or she'll be setting you up with every available man in the county," he groans but smiles none the less.

"Well, as long as he's willing to move to New York, then maybe," she chuckles before turning sober once more. "Maybe I should just get a cat or something. I don't want to just grab the first guy off of the street and hope for the best. That's one of the reasons why divorce lawyers are so bloody rich. I want someone who I can grow old with. Annie has it, why can't I?"

"I think that God was smiling on Annie when Mike walked into her life," he states hesitantly.

"So that's it?" she questions. "God is smiling on Annie and I get the shaft?"

"No, honey, of course not," he assures her as he puts his arm around her shoulders. "I just think God has some very special plans for you and you're just going to have to be patient."

"I'm thirty, Dad, I'm not sure I have time to be patient," she grumbles while she leans against him.

"Patience is a virtue, Amy," he reminds her and then looks down at her attire. "Aren't you freezing?"

"A bit," she admits. "The coffee helped keep me warm."

"Well, why don't you go get cleaned up," he suggests. "Your mother is making a big breakfast and then we'll go to church."

"Oh boy, church," she says, sounding about as thrilled as having bamboo splinters shoved under her nails.

"Haven't you been going to church?" he asks, a frown wrinkling his forehead.

"No, Dad," she answers truthfully. "I have to get dressed up five days a week and spend it with a man telling me what to do and how to think. I do not wish to do that on one of my days off too. Besides, I like sleeping in."

"If your mother finds out…," he starts.

"She'll go to church and pray for my soul," she finishes. "Dad, I'm thirty now. I think I can manage to make my own decisions."

"You didn't seem to mind going to church when you were younger," he points out.

"That's because that was the only time Annie and I got to see kids our own age was when we went to church," she tells him. "I know why we moved out here to the middle of nowhere and why Mom home schooled us, but it didn't make isolation any easier. I'm just glad that you and Mom were a lot more understanding than Serena's family."

"We could do nothing less," he states. "So what are you doing up at this hour? I thought you were going to sleep in on your birthday."

"I was planning on it until…um…well…," she stammers.

"Until Annie and Mike started going at it like a couple of wild rabbits?" he inquires, a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his lips.

"To put it nicely," she grumbles. "I thought I wouldn't have to put up with that any more after getting rid of Bobbi. You would think they could have waited until they got home or something."

"You'll get no argument from me," he agrees. "It's one thing to know your daughter is no longer a virgin, it's something else entirely when it's forced down your throat."

"How'd they wake you up?" she asks as she stands. "Their headboard is against my wall."

"Obviously you weren't around for the grand finale," he states, his face starting to redden.

"Thank heaven for small favors," she replies as she opens the screen door. "I better go get cleaned up. I hope there's some hot water left."

With that, she returns to the house to get ready for what promises to be an interesting day.

* * *

Hank wakes to a darkened room and he's a bit disoriented for a few moments, but then he remembers where he is. He notices his magazine and glasses are on the table, a blanket is covering him and he knows that only one person would have done such a thing, causing a smile to touch his lips. He looks over at his patient and sees she's still sleeping. The bag of fluids emptied a long time ago and he gets up to remove it. As he's sliding the needle out of her arm, she whimpers and opens her eyes.

"Good morning, Serena," he happily greets as he applies a bit of pressure to the hole in her arm. "How are you feeling?"

"How am I supposed to be feeling?" she nearly growls as he makes her bend her arm while he disposes of the used items.

"Ah, not a morning person, I see," he continues cheerfully while he applies a small strip of medical tape and a bit of gauze to the tiny hole on the inside of her elbow. "I imagine you're quite sore after that incredible trek you took yesterday and your feet probably are none to pleased with you as well. However, no major damage was done and you'll be right as rain in a few days."

"Great," she grumbles with all the enthusiasm of someone who's been told their pet has just died.

"Would you care for some breakfast?" he asks as he goes to turn up the lights. "I'm quite famished myself and can only imagine how hungry you must be."

"I'm fine, thanks," she mumbles as her stomach loudly growls.

"It seems your stomach disagrees with you," he chuckles as he steps towards her bed. "But before I call someone to bring us breakfast, I think a trip to the lavatory is in order. Now, I can carry you or you can lean on me. Which do you prefer?"

"I can do it on my own," she snarls.

She throws back the covers, swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands up, only to immediately collapse. Fortunately for her, Hank has been expecting such an occurrence and easily catches her before she falls to the floor.

"Now then," he says patiently. "Would you like to lean on me or for me to carry you?"

"I'll try walking," she states stubbornly.

"Very well then," he replies as he places one large hand under her elbow and the other around her waist. "Take it as slowly as you need to. I'm in no great rush."

By the time they're half way to the bathroom, she's shaking and when they finally make it there, she's sweating and about ready to collapse again. It takes them ten minutes to complete the journey and all she wants to do is to crawl back into bed. Instead, he leaves her in the lavatory to freshen up while he goes over to the phone on the wall and calls up to the kitchen.

By the time he hangs up, the bathroom door is open and she stands there leaning against the door frame eyeing the room. There's half a dozen beds down each side of the room much like the post op ward on MASH though this is a much more updated version. She looks at her bed at the other end of the ward and inwardly groans.

"Why don't you take the bed closest to the bathroom?" he suggests as he steps up to her.

"Ok," she weakly agrees.

He helps her to her new bed and then grabs a couple extra pillows so that she can sit up comfortably. Just as he's finishing getting her set up in her new bed, the door opens and Bobby walks in carrying a large tray of food. Hank looks down at Serena and sees she's intently staring at her hands in her lap instead of looking at Bobby.

"Thank you, Bobby," Hank says as he quickly crosses the room and takes the tray.

"Is she ok?" Bobby quietly asks.

"Physically, she will be alright," Hank answers softly. "Psychologically, may be another matter all together. What she needs right now is rest."

"I suppose visitors are out?" Bobby questions.

"For the time being, yes," Hank replies. "After breakfast, perhaps."

"Ok, I'll let the others know," Bobby replies. "Kitty's feeling pretty rotten right now. Storm chewed her out something good last night. It seems Kitty was sneaking out of their room and spending it in Rogue's room, totally ignoring Serena."

"I'll see if she's up to having visitors after she's eaten," Hank tells him. "She's in a bit of a sour mood right now."

"Ok, thanks," Bobby says and then leaves.

Hank looks down at the food and smiles before turning around. He puts the tray down on the table next to Serena's bed and then starts to divide up the food.

"We're in luck," he happily states as he hands her a plate. "Storm's made her famous blueberry pancakes, a rare treat indeed."

"Are you kidding?" she asks, staring with wide eyes at the large stack of pancakes on her plate. "There's no way I can eat all of that."

"Eat what you can," he replies calmly as he takes a seat on the bed next to hers. "No one says you have to eat all of it."

Without another word, he starts to eat his breakfast and after a few moments, she does likewise. The only sound for the next several minutes is the clinking of their forks against their plates. When Serena stops eating, she stares at her now empty plate, completely in shock over the amount of food she's put away.

"Feel better?" he asks and when she opens her mouth to answer a loud belch emerges causing her to blush furiously and him to laugh. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

"Oh my god, excuse me," she mutters past the hand she brings to her mouth.

"In some cultures that is considered a high complement," he chuckles as he takes her plate. "Now I would like to examine your feet and then I think a bath will be in order."

"I'm a little old to be taking a bath," she points out as he goes to retrieve his glasses.

"Do you think you can stand for a shower?" he questions as he puts on his glasses.

"No," she mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Very well then," he states as he delicately lifts her foot by the ankle making her giggle and try to pull her foot away to which he instinctively grabs a hold.

"That tickles," she laughs as she involuntarily jerks her leg only to find that he's much stronger than her and ends up pulling herself down the bed.

"I assure you, I'm not trying to tickle you," he says, looking over the top of his glasses with a bemused look on his face.

"You're fur," she gasps while trying to squirm away.

"Ah, I see," he replies as he moves his hold so that her pants are between her and his hand and she finally holds still.

"Why are you taking care of me?" she questions after she gets her breath back. "I thought you were a politician."

"I am, but I'm also a doctor," he answers as he lowers the first foot so that he may examine the other one. "I used to be the X-Men's doctor in fact."

"Why'd you leave?" she inquires.

"I felt I could better the lives of all mutants if I became more politically involved," he explains as he touches a rather red spot on her foot with one of his claws.

"Ow," she hisses as she tries to pull her foot away again.

"Sorry," he apologizes.

"So is it working?" she asks. "Have you been able to help mutants?"

"I don't know," he confesses as he lowers her foot back to the bed. "Some days it feels like I'm trying to ski uphill. I guess only time will tell."

Before anymore can be said, Kurt suddenly appears out of thin air.

"Ah, good morning, Kurt," Hank cheerfully greets.

"_Guten Morgen,_ Herr Beast, Serena," Kurt replies with a smile. "How is ze _liebchen_?"

"She's not going to be doing much walking for the next few days," Hank answers as he takes his glasses off and slips them into a pocket. "I would like her to stay down here for today, but she should be moved back to her room tonight. Someone is going to have to help her around until the blisters on her feet have had a chance to heal."

"I don't want to go back to my room," she butts in. "Kitty…"

"_Katzchen _iz very sorry for her behavior," Kurt tells her when she doesn't finish her sentence. "However, Storm iz moving you to a different room."

"Oh," she replies in a small voice.

"Kurt, could you get someone to bring down a change of clothes for Serena, please?" Hank requests.

"I vill zee to it," Kurt assures them as he picks up the tray of empty dishes and vanishes with a loud 'bamf'.

"I'll go start your bath," Hank states as he turns towards the bathroom. "After yesterday's adventure, a nice bath will help ease those sore muscles."

He disappears through the door, closing and locking it behind him. A moment later the sound of the bath filling reaches her ears and about a minute later, she hears the toilet flush. She blushes slightly and a moment later he reemerges just as Storm walks in carrying a bundle of clothes.

"Morning you two," Storm greets; trying not to let the stress of the past twenty-four hours seep into her voice.

"Morning," Serena returns a bit sullenly.

"Good morning, Ororo," Hank replies much more cheerfully.

"I brought Serena her clothes," Storm announces, holding up the bundle. "How are you feeling?"

Serena simply shrugs her answer, refusing to look at the headmistress and a slight scowl creases Storms brow.

"Wonderful," Hank states with a bit of forced happiness. "Ororo, would you please put those in the bathroom while I help Serena in?"

"Sure, Hank," Storm agrees a bit reluctantly, staring at the girl.

As soon as Serena is situated in the bathroom and the door firmly closed behind her, Hank leads Storm into the treatment room.

"Well, that was rude," Storm grumbles.

"Take it easy on the girl," Hank sighs. "She's been through a lot."

"Any idea why she took off like that?" she asks.

"Not yet, but I will work with her," he assures her. "I may not be Charles, but I like to believe that I can win over almost anyone with my sparkling personality."

She laughs as he gives her a big smile.

"You probably could, you snake charmer," she chuckles.

"I prefer the term 'charismatic'," he grins before becoming serious again. "But all joking aside, I'd like to keep her down her for today. I'll need to leave tonight, so I'd like her to go back upstairs."

"I'm already having Kitty move Serena's stuff to her new room," she states.

"Good," he nods. "Have someone send down her school work. She doesn't seem interested in just telling me what happened. So maybe if I distract her with her studies, I may be able to get somewhere."

"Ok, I'll send someone down with her homework," she replies. "I'll also try to keep Logan at bay. He's still in a snit about having to track her for so many hours. However, he's currently using the Danger Room and that's right down the hall. Hopefully he'll have worked off his anger by the time he comes out."

"Let us hope," he agrees. "The last thing she needs is to have Wolverine scaring her half to death. I've heard about her power, I'd rather not witness it first hand."

"I don't blame you," she responds with a half smile. "I better get going and make sure Kitty and Jubilee are doing their punishments."

"What did Jubilee do?" he asks.

"Stained one of the good bed sheets while making a banner to welcome Serena," she answers. "When she gets a chance, Miss Simon wants to talk to her. I'll send down her phone number."

"You don't sound too happy about that," he observes.

"She threatened law suit, remember?" she reminds him.

"Ah, yes," he sighs. "Very well, it's best to appease the lady. After all, she did save Serena from spending the prime years of her life behind bars."

"I suppose you're right," she sighs as she heads for the door. "I'll send her books down in a bit. Call if you need anything."

"Will do," he replies as she goes through the door.

With a sigh tinged with regret, he watches her leave wishing that there had been a way to be sure that her feelings for him had been real. He sadly shakes his head and returns to the recovery room to wait for Serena to emerge from her bath. Who knows, maybe he'll get a chance to talk to Miss Simon and this time convince her that he's not someone named Brian.


	10. Shocking Surprises

**Author's Notes:** Thank you Ratdogtwo, apenamee and nobodyathome (yes, I did try to spell your name the way you did, but this place won't let me leave in the 'at' sign and didn't realize it at first) for your reviews. They mean a lot to me. I still have those other stories on hold and I really want to get to them, but for whatever reason, my muse is completely insane about me writing this story though. Please leave a review.

* * *

"Where is it?" Cathy demands, grabbing Amanda's arm before they step into the church. 

"Where's what?" Amanda asks in confusion as people push past them to get into the building.

"Your cell phone," Cathy clarifies. "Where is it?"

"It's in my purse," Amanda answers.

"Have you turned it off?" Cathy questions suspiciously.

"I've turned the ringer off," Amanda replies evasively.

"That isn't what I asked," Cathy hisses. "Turn that blasted thing off."

"Mom, the ringer is off, it's not going to bother anyone," Amanda assures her.

"You will not have that thing on while in the Lord's House," Cathy growls.

"I'm expecting a rather important call," Amanda tells her.

"I don't care if you're expecting a call from the President of the United States," Cathy snaps. "You turn that nasty little thing off or so help me I'll toss it into the Baptismal Fount."

Amanda looks into her mother's eyes and the lawyer just knows that this is one argument she's not going to win. With a resigned sigh, she fishes her phone out of her purse and turns it off. Before she can drop it back into her bag, Cathy grabs it out of her hand and puts it in her own sizable purse while Amanda stands there with her mouth hanging open in shock.

"Just so you don't get any funny ideas during the service," Cathy tells her before turning and marching into the chapel.

Amanda stands there so completely stunned she's not sure she can even string two words together. A few minutes later, Annie returns from dropping the kids off at Sunday school, gently takes her sister's arm and steers her into the church.

"She took my cell phone," Amanda whimpers as Annie leads her down the aisle.

"There, there, dear, it'll be alright," Annie consoles as she pats her sister's arm.

"She took my cell phone," Amanda repeats, still dazed.

"Yes, you already said that," Annie reminds her.

"She took my cell phone," Amanda echoes again just unable to bend her mind around being without her electronic leash.

"Obsessed much?" Annie teases as she pushes Amanda into a pew and sits down next to her.

Amanda glares at Annie for a moment and then falls into a sullen silence just as the priest takes the pulpit.

* * *

"Still no luck?" Hank asks as he steps back into the recovery room. 

"No, I'm still just getting her voice mail," Serena sadly replies as she lies the cordless phone down on the table next to her bed.

"She may be somewhere that doesn't have cell phone reception," he suggests as he sits on the bed next to hers.

"If she was expecting a call from me then why would she go there?" she grumbles sullenly.

"She might not have had a choice," he replies. "Why don't you work on your homework while you wait for her return call?"

"I don't see why," she mumbles to herself. "Not like I'm going to stay here."

"And where would you go?" he questions with a curious tilt to his head.

"My grandparents," she tells him. "At least I know they still love me."

"Ah," he responds and leaves it at that. "None the less, you should continue your studies here until you transfer to your new school. After all, you don't want to be behind your new classmates"

"Fine," she grumbles as she pulls her books and notebooks towards her.

* * *

"Ok, service is over, we've socialized with all of your church friends and you've introduced me to every single unattached male that's over the age of twenty-one," Amanda states as she gets into her parent's car. "May I now please have my phone?" 

"No," Cathy answers simply, but firmly. "I'm not going to listen to you talk on the phone all the way home."

"Mom," Amanda nearly growls.

"Don't you use that tone with me, young lady," Cathy shoots back. "It's very rude to ignore the people you're riding in a car with. You'll get it back when we get home."

"I am expecting a very important phone call," Amanda reminds her mother.

"I'm sure whoever it is will understand," Cathy replies. "You'll just have to wait until we get home."

"ARG!" Amanda cries out in frustration.

After banging her head against the head rest in frustration a few times, she crosses her arms over her chest, slouches down in her seat and sulks.

"I thought you just turned thirty, not three," Cathy states a bit snappishly.

"Serena ran away from the school yesterday," Amanda says while staring out the window, watching the scenery going by. "The police picked her up hitchhiking. Other than that, I don't know how she's doing. I asked Miss Munroe to have her call me. I know she's angry at everyone at the school. I don't need her being mad at me too."

"Oh, she'll get over it," Cathy states confidently.

"Somehow, I didn't think you'd understand," Amanda mutters to herself.

* * *

Serena throws the cordless phone across the room and onto another bed in frustration. 

"What'd it ever do to you?" a deep voice growls and she jumps where she's sitting, quickly turning to see a rather displeased Wolverine in the doorway.

"Oh, Mr. Logan," she mutters. "I didn't hear you come in."

"You'll only hear me coming if I want you too," he tells her. "So what's with tossing the phone around?"

"Not that anyone cares around here, but Amanda told me to call her and she's not answering," she answers snippily.

"What makes you think no one cares around here?" he asks as he leans against the door jam, a frown on his face.

"The fact that no one will talk to me," she replies testily, matching him scowl for scowl and her voice growing progressively louder. "The fact that if I lose control of my power I get punished for it, the fact that my supposed 'friends' act like I don't even exist or the fact that it wasn't until Amanda called here yesterday that anyone noticed I was missing!"

"Well, you've got people's attention now," he points out quietly.

"Yeah, all I have to do is run away and then suddenly I exist again," she snaps, her arms crossing over her chest. "What happens in a couple weeks when people start to forget? Do I suddenly become invisible again? What will I have to do to get their attention again? Kill someone?"

"Don't even joke about that, kid," he snarls.

"I wasn't," she growls. "Not like you care either. All anyone did was sit around and wait for the police to pick me up."

"Is that what you think?" he demands. "That all we did was sit on our asses and twiddle our thumbs? Because I've got news for you, kid, you're dead wrong."

"Oh, I'm sure a token search was done, but nothing too straining," she snorts. "After all, they wouldn't want to cut into their time fawning over Rogue."

"Leave Rogue out of this," he warns with a growl.

"Why?" she demands. "It's because of her my life has gone straight to hell. Everything was fine until she came here."

"Rogue belongs here," he snarls, pushing himself away from the wall and standing in a threatening stance with his fists balled at his sides.

"And I don't," she snaps back. "I belong with my grandparents. At least I know they care for me."

"Let me ask you something, kid," he starts, barely keeping himself under control. "When was the last time you talked to your grandparents?"

"I don't know, I don't remember," she replies a bit confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Did they come to your trial?" he continues, ignoring her question. "Did they come and get you when your parents kicked you out? Did they visit you or call you while you were in jail?"

"No, but…," she tries to answer.

"Have they called or visited since you got here?" he keeps interrogating. "Have they given you any reason at all to believe that they give a damn about you?"

"DON'T SAY THAT!" she screams at him, angry hot tears pouring down her face. "YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! THEY LOVE ME! I KNOW THEY DO!"

"They have a funny way of showing it!" he yells back.

"**SHUT UP!" **she shrieks as the power surges through her body.

* * *

A half an hour later, they're pulling up to the house and Amanda is out of the car as soon as it stops moving. Mike and Annie arrive a few seconds later and as soon as their car is turned off, the kids come pouring out of the vehicle. Annie joins her kids as they wait on the front porch waiting for the front door to be opened. 

"May I please have my phone back now?" Amanda nearly demands of her mother.

"Oh, all right," Cathy says in exasperation and opens her large purse, pulling out her keys first. "Why don't you go open the door while I look for it?"

Amanda gives a frustrated sigh as she takes the house keys from her mother, stalks ups the front steps, opens the front door and marches into the house with Annie on her heels.

"**SURPRISE!**" over thirty people scream at the top of their lungs.

"Holy Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Amanda shouts as she all but jumps out of her skin and all of the people in the house start laughing and cheering.

"Happy birthday," various people yell as she and Annie are dragged the rest of the way into the house.

Amanda quickly turns around to look at Annie and sees that she's wearing contact lenses that make her eyes look normal. With a sigh of relief, Amanda turns back to the various friends and relations greeting her, some whom she hasn't seen in years and almost forgets about her mother holding her cell phone hostage. In the back of her mind is the nagging reminder that she needs to find out if Serena called and she knows there's no way she's going to convince her mother to give her back the phone with all these people here.

* * *

"Tell me something, boy," Hank says through gritted teeth, holding on to his ire by a tenuous thread. "Was there a particular reason you felt it necessary to 'redecorate' the infirmary?" 

"Stick it, furball," Logan growls back as he picks himself up off the floor, dusts himself off and leaves.

With a sigh of frustration, Hank looks around at the damage. The doorway between the examination/treatment room and the recovery room is now about three times bigger than it was before and the beds closest to the door are now going to need to be replaced as well as the bedding. He's just thankful that the angle of Serena's blast left the machinery relatively unscathed and with a resigned sigh, he heads for the recovery room. Carefully stepping over the rubble, he walks in and finds Kurt comforting the distraught girl.

"Zere, zere, _liebchen, _it iz alright," the other blue mutant quietly whispers to the nearly hysterical girl.

Serena doesn't answer but continues to cry uncontrollably in the demonic looking mutant's arms. Hank wants to kick himself for having to go get a Twinkie fix, leaving her unprotected for those few minutes. It was probably what Logan was waiting for and lets out a soft growl as he looks at the carnage left behind. A second later Storm and several other X-Men come charging into the room.

"What happened?" Storm demands.

"I'm not exactly sure," Hank sighs. "I stepped out for a few minutes and when I came back, Logan was on the floor, the wall was destroyed and Serena was crying hysterically."

"Where's Serena now?" Storm asks.

"She's still in the recovery room," Hank replies waving his hand in that direction. "Kurt's in there with her right now. It's probably best to leave her alone until she calms down."

"This has got to stop," Storm states. "She can't just keep blowing things up like this."

"I wouldn't blame her on this one, Ororo," Hank points out. "I have a feeling Logan's been waiting until she was alone so he could have a 'chat' with her. He obviously go her so upset that she lost control."

"Damn that man," she hisses before turning towards the others standing in the doorway. "All right, everyone back upstairs."

"What about the mess?" Kitty timidly asks.

"That will be Logan's project when I finally catch up with him," Storm replies as a boom of thunder can be heard even at the depths they're at. "Now, all of you upstairs please."

Other than an occasional whispered comment between the others, they leave quickly and quietly. Storm takes another look around at the damage done before turning back to Hank. He's looking back into the recovery room where he can hear Kurt and Serena and it seems the girl has calmed enough to tell Kurt what happened. Storm approaches her old lover and he raises his hand in a 'stop' motion. She pauses and notices a look of intense concentration on his face as he listens in on the other two's conversation. A few minutes later, he turns back to her with a sad look in his eyes.

"It seems she was trying to get to her grandparent's home as was thought," he quietly sighs. "Logan none to gently pointed out that her grandparents have not tried to contact her since it was revealed that she's a mutant. Needless to say, this upset her greatly."

"When I get my hands on that man…," Storm softly growls, the threat of great pain left hanging in the air. "So what now?"

"For now, we leave her with Kurt," he instructs as he turns back to the debris scattered across the floor. "She seems to be developing a bit of an attachment to him. In the mean time, I'll at least attempt to make it possible to walk around in here and make sure none of the equipment took any damage."

"Alright, but let me know if you need anything," she replies as she heads for the door, stopping just as she passes him. "And, Hank, the next you need a Twinkie fix, please just call and ask someone to bring them to you."

"What makes you think I was going for Twinkies?" he asks, trying to sound innocent.

She reaches out and wipes her finger across his bottom lip and then holds it up for him to see the tattletale smudge of Twinkie filling on the tip of her digit. He gets a very chagrined look on his face while the skin under his fur heats up.

"Sorry," he mumbles, feeling very much like a kid whose hand has been caught in the cookie jar.

"Let someone know when you two are ready for lunch," Storm chuckles as she heads for the exit.

"Of course, _mon capitaine_," he smiles causing her to laugh at him as she licks the goo off of her finger as she exits the room.

He sadly thinks about the time when her sucking something off of her finger did more for him, but it's over and he knows nothing can go back to the way it was. He makes a displeased sound deep in his throat as he looks at the damage and then goes to check on the machines. As he's brushing the dust off of the machines, Nightcrawler sedately comes out of the recovery room, carefully stepping over the pieces of wall on the floor.

"How is she?" Hank asks without really looking up.

"She sleeps," Kurt tiredly answers. "Ze teenagerz, zey take a lot out of you, _ja_?"

"True, teenagers can be very emotionally draining," Hank agrees as he wipes more dust and debris to the floor. "But she seems to like you. That is a lot more than the rest of us have managed."

"She likes my jokes," Kurt grins before looking around at the mess. "Do you need help?"

"No, thank you, Kurt," Hank responds pleasantly. "Would you mind checking back in on her later? I had hoped that being a third party she would have opened up to me, but I guess what she needs is someone she knows will still be here in the morning."

"I vould be honored to help you, Herr Beast," Kurt replies with a bow.

"Please, call me Hank," Hank insists as Kurt straightens back up.

"It vill be my pleasure," Kurt assures him. "Iz there anything else you need?"

"No, I just need to make sure that the machines didn't take any damage from Logan's foolishness," Hank answers while wiping a large hand over one of the panels. "Please, I don't wish to impose on any more of your Sunday. If she should awaken before you return, I'll be sure to call."

"As you wish," Kurt says. "Auf Wiedersehen, Hank."

With another flourished bow, Kurt 'bamf's out of the infirmary and Hank lightly chuckles at the other blue mutant's theatrics. Then he turns solemn as he thinks about the about the other man and Storm. The small smiles, the furtive glances, those used to be his until his insecurities made him throw it all away. Now he lives alone and the echoes of those empty rooms in his heart reverberate through his soul.

* * *

_mon capitaine _– French, my captain 

_Auf wiedersehen _– German, goodbye


	11. Heading Home

**Author's Notes 1:** Thank you to yatsirch, Ratdogtwo and Takerslady (an extra thank you for reviewing almost all the other chapters) for your reviews. You have no idea how good it makes me feel when people spend a couple of minutes to leave a review. I know this story is a little convoluted right now, but I promise that everything will be brought together eventually.

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?" Cathy asks disapprovingly.

Amanda pauses with her toiletry bag in one hand, poised over the small open suitcase on her bed.

"Is this a trick question?" Amanda asks back.

"All right, let me be more specific," Cathy hisses in displeasure. "Why are you up here packing instead of with your guests downstairs and _why_ are you packing?"

"They're your guests, Mom, not mine," Amanda points out as she goes back to her packing. "I didn't invite all the single men in the county to this little soiree, you did. How did you get so many men here, Mom? Did you put an ad in the paper saying 'single woman looking for possible husband'?"

"You could use a husband," Cathy mutters under her breath.

"What were you expecting to happen, Mom?" Amanda inquires as she stops what she's doing for a moment. "That out of the dozen or so men down there, there would be one where I'd suddenly look into his eyes, that music would suddenly start playing, we'd fall into each other's arms, he'd sweep me off my feet and carry me upstairs to have his wild with me?"

"I've met all of those men," her mother retorts. "And they are all nice, hard working Christians and you should count yourself lucky that they deemed to spend their Sunday here instead of doing something else. They most certainly wouldn't be having their wild way with you."

"Oh yeah, that Keith is a real catch," Amanda scoffs. "Did you know I just wasted a half an hour of my life having him follow me around telling me lawyer jokes? Where do I sign up for that fun fest for the rest of my life? I'm just glad that Mike finally distracted him long enough for me to make my escape otherwise I was going to have to kill him and plead temporary insanity."

"And speaking of escapes, you haven't answered my question," Cathy responds. "Why are you packing?"

"Mom, I told you a couple weeks ago that I wouldn't be able to stay through Monday like I had originally planned," Amanda answers, frustrated beyond words. "I used all of my vacation time to attend Serena's trial. I don't have any more time off left and that includes my sick days. I don't suppose you've managed to fish my phone out of your purse yet."

"No, I suppose I haven't," Cathy tersely replies, her hands on her hips. "And I don't suppose I will until after you get downstairs back to your birthday party."

"I will in a bit, Mom," Amanda responds as she picks up a piece of clothing and starts folding it. "But I need to be at the train station by six."

"What if you took a train in the morning?" Cathy suggests.

"Only if I don't want a job by that evening," Amanda replies while she puts the few remaining items in her bag. "You know Steele is looking for any excuse to fire me."

"Well, then you could move back here," Cathy says hopefully.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Mom, but there isn't really a lot of demand for lawyers around here," Amanda responds. "Besides, I like New York."

"You could come back here and settle down," Cathy suggests hopefully.

"If what's downstairs is the best that this area has to offer, I'd rather stay a lonely old maid," Amanda retorts.

"What does New York have that we don't have here?" Cathy demands.

"People, decent restaurants, museums, art galleries, libraries you can get lost in," Amanda lists as she zips up her suitcase.

"Crime, pollution, overcrowding," Cathy sarcastically continues.

"I like New York, Mom, and there are more job opportunities for me there than here," Amanda firmly states. "Now, is someone going to drive me to the train station or am I going to have to call a cab?"

"Fine, I'll drive you, but please come downstairs and at least say goodbye to people," Cathy answers in defeat.

"I wasn't planning on sneaking out the back door," Amanda assures her as she heads for the bedroom door. "That's why I'm up here now instead of doing this later when I'd be rushed."

"Fine, as long as you don't just go sneaking off," Cathy sighs in resignation.

Luckily, Amanda's room is at the top of the stairs and all further conversation must stop as they return to the party going on. Amanda starts making the rounds, saying goodbye to her family and old friends before finally, hesitantly, the men her mother had invited. Before she gets to escape, her presents are thrust upon her and she reluctantly opens them as fast as she can. As she finishes with one of her last gifts, her nieces run up with one more present.

"Here you go, Aunt Amy," Bethany starts.

"We made it ourselves," Beverly ends.

"Thank you, girls," Amanda says while she opens the wrapping paper.

Inside she finds a book whose front and back covers have pictures of a wide variety of plants and animals haphazardly pasted all over them. A clear gloss like fingernail enamel covers the pictures to keep them from being damaged and when Amanda opens the book, she finds that the pages are just lined paper.

"What a beautiful journal," Amanda smiles as she opens her arms. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome," the twins sing out as the jump into their aunt's arms to get their hugs and kisses.

"Here," Paul says as he shoves yet another present at his aunt and she quietly opens the small, thin package to reveal a CD in a clear top jewel case. "Grandma and Mom got out a bunch of pictures of when you and Mom were growing up and I scanned them, put them in a slide show and then I added some music to it, though not the music I wanted to."

"Your aunt isn't exactly a fan of Eminem," Annie points out to her son.

"Thank you, Paul, that was very sweet of you," Amanda replies as she opens her arms, the girls move out of the way as their brother stiffly accepts a hug from his aunt and she moves her mouth close to his ear. "When you're mom's not looking, check under my bed."

The boy pulls away with a big grin on his face and hers is just as big.

"What did you just say to him?" Annie demands, eyeing her sister suspiciously.

"I was just thanking him," Amanda answers with an innocent smile.

"Honest, Mom, that's all she was doing," Paul adds, big innocent eyes looking at his mother.

"Uh huh, right," Annie nearly snarls, here eyes narrowing at the two of them. "Lying is a sin you know."

"Oh, look at the time," Amanda suddenly states as she stands up and starts to wade through the people. "I better get going if I'm going to make my train."

Another quick round of goodbyes and then Amanda is out the door. She swiftly loads her suitcase, the satchel with her laptop and the hastily packed shopping bags of birthday presents in the trunk of her parent's car, hoping nothing breaks on the trip. She gets into the car about a second before her father slides behind the wheel.

"I thought Mom was driving me," she states in confusion.

"She was going to, but then she noticed we were running low on food and didn't think it was safe to let me make anything," he replies as he starts up the car and pulls away from the curb.

"Well, you did catch the kitchen on fire that one time," she reminds him.

"Hey! That was a long time ago," he grouses.

"And Mom's never going to let you forget it," she points out. "Speaking of Mom, did she give you my cell phone?"

"Yes, she did and no you're not getting it back," he answers.

"Dad," she begs.

"No, your mother would have my head," he replies.

"Please, Dad," she pleads.

"No way, your mother would kill me," he retorts boldly, but she's sure he's weakening.

"Pretty please, Daddy," she whimpers as she lays her head on his shoulder and gives him the big puppy dog eye look.

"Amy, sweetheart, I love you with all of my heart, but if your mother finds out that I gave you your phone back before we got to the train station she would roast me over a slow fire," he firmly states while she sits up and stares at him. "Don't bother staring at me with that look. Your mother taught you that look and I've had a lot more years to develop defenses against, so just forget it."

With a snort of disgust, she slumps down in her seat, crosses her arms over her chest and sulks. He looks at her out of the corner of his eye and he inwardly groans. He's always hated it when the girls used emotional blackmail on him when they were kids and it hasn't gotten any better with them being adults.

"Some birthday this has turned out to be," she mumbles.

"Listen, honey," he starts with a sigh. "Please understand that we love you and we want to visit with you, not your cell phone."

"I know, Dad," she sighs. "But you need to understand I feel responsible for her being there. I feel like an idiot letting them take her, but I don't know what else I could have done."

"From what you've told me, there wasn't any other choice," he points out.

"Sometimes I wonder," she replies. "Maybe if I tried a little harder, maybe if I did something a little different."

"Who else is prepared to train a mutant with her destructive capabilities?" he asks.

"Yeah, I guess your right," she answers reluctantly. "Still, I need to know she's alright. For my own peace of mind, if nothing else."

"I understand, Amy," he replies. "But I'm still not giving you back your phone."

"Fine," she grumbles and stares at the passing scenery.

"You're mother mentioned something about some party you got invited to," he casually mentions. "Why don't you tell me about that?"

After about a minute of silence, she starts to talk about the deal she's made with Mr. Jones, the phone conversations she's had with his nephew and the masquerade ball she's been invited to, filling up the time as they make their way to the train station.

* * *

"You're shittin' me," he growls, a frown creasing his brow.

"No, Logan, I'm not 'shittin' you," Storm calmly replies. "You are relieved of all other duties until you complete this assignment."

"This is bullshit," he grumbles as he abruptly gets up from his seat and heads for the door.

"I want order in this school, Logan," she warns, leaning back in her own chair behind her desk. "And I will have it, one way or another. Now you can help or you can leave. The choice is yours."

Logan stops at the door with his hand on the knob and becomes as still as a statue.

"You'd kick me out," he states, not bothering to turn around.

"I can't have you terrorizing the students," she grimly points out.

"I spent over eight hours tracking that little brat and all I get is shit," he snaps, spinning around to face the white haired woman. "What the hell is her problem any ways?"

"Serena has abandonment and jealousy issues," she answers. "And you aren't helping if you're getting her so mad or scared that she's blowing holes in the building."

"I was just pointing out that her grandparents aren't as loving as she thinks they are," he states, his arms crossing over his broad chest.

"There are better ways than yelling at her," she responds testily as she stands up. "I better go with you to explain things to her. Hopefully Hank or Kurt will have gotten her calmed down enough to talk to rationally."

"Speaking of the big, blue furball," he mutters as he opens to door revealing Hank standing there scowling at him.

"I heard that, _boy_," Hank softly growls.

"Good," Logan snaps back.

"Alright you two, that's enough testosterone for one evening," Storm interrupts as she walks up to them. "Is everything alright, Hank?"

"I'm afraid I need to get going," Hank answers as he pulls a small piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to her. "Have this filled and make sure Serena takes it."

"What is it?" she asks as she looks at the prescription he's written out.

"Anti-depressants," Hank answers. "I went over her readings again from last night's scan. There's a chemical imbalance in her brain, these drugs should help ease the more severe mood swings."

"Ok, I'll have it taken care of in the morning," she assures him as she steps up for a hug which he gladly gives. "Have a safe trip home and please think about my offer."

"Thank you and I will," Hank says as he reluctantly releases his old friend. "Call me if anything changes."

"I will," she replies. "Bye, Hank."

"Bye, Ororo, take care of yourself," Hank responds as he heads towards the front door, picking up his bag on the way. "Bye, boy."

"Catch ya later, furball," Logan shoots back and Hank only chuckles at him before disappearing around a corner.

"Come on, Logan," she orders while she heads in the other direction. "It's time for you to start your new assignment."

"Joy," he grumbles as he reluctantly follows the headmistress into the depths of the mansion. "So what did you offer furball anyways?"

"A teaching position," she answers without bothering to turn around and look at him. "We could use another teacher."

"Ain't that the truth," he mutters under his breath.

* * *

"Ok, honey, here's your phone," Stuart says as he hands the device over and she quickly pockets it. "Have a good trip home."

"Thanks, Dad," Amanda replies as she gives him a hug and a kiss goodbye. "I'm sorry for being such a pest this weekend."

"It's ok, sweetheart," he responds as he gives her an extra squeeze. "Hopefully next month's visit won't be as dramatic."

"Hopefully Mom won't be inviting any strange men to Thanksgiving," she sighs as she starts to pick up all of her bags. "I feel like a pack mule."

"Just wait until Christmas," he chuckles and she lets out a groan. "You better get going or you're going to miss your train."

"Ah! You're right," she cries in alarm and starts hurrying towards her train. "Bye, Dad. Love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," he yells back as she disappears into the crowd.

Amanda squirms her way through the crowd, which thankfully isn't all that bad considering how it will be when she comes back to visit for Thanksgiving and Christmas. After having a conductor confirm her ticket and pointing her to the correct track, she finally gets on board. After shuffling her way through a couple of cars with all of her bags, she finally finds a couple of empty seats next to each other and gladly sits down, quickly stowing her things just as the train starts to move.

As she's finishing up, a conductor comes through collecting the tickets and she hands hers over, relaxing into her seat. As soon as he's gone, she pulls out her phone and turns it on. It beeps at her shortly after getting through its welcome message to let her know that she's missed several calls and there are just as many voice messages waiting for her. After confirming that all of the missed calls came from the same number, she immediately calls the person back, praying that the girl's not too mad at her.

* * *

**Author's Notes 2:** A strange place to end it, I know, but the chapter was actually going too long so I cut it in two which means that chapter 12 is almost done. As always, please leave a review. 


	12. New Room

**Author's notes:** Thank you Takerslady, Ratdogtwo and WickedGood for your reviews. Here's the other half of that last chapter. I know I've portrayed Storm as a bit cranky, but keep in mind she's under a great deal of stress running the school. As always, please leave a review.

* * *

When Logan and Storm walk into the infirmary, they can hear Kurt telling one of his amazing stories with him 'bamfing' around the recovery room and Serena laughing at his antics. When they step through the giant hole in the wall, Kurt is giving a bow to his audience of one and she's clapping enthusiastically. As soon as Serena spots the newcomers, she stops clapping and shrinks in upon herself.

"Good evening, Serena," Storm greets pleasantly, trying to keep any anger out of her voice and mostly succeeding.

"Hi," Serena replies in a small voice.

"I'm glad to see you ate your dinner," Storm states, glancing at the empty plate on the nightstand. "I'd like to send you up to your new room, but first I want to talk to you about some things."

"Ok," Serena mutters, not meeting the headmistress's eyes and pulling herself into a ball, trying not to hiss in pain when she rubs a blister across the bedding.

"What got you so angry that made you destroy your dresser?" Storm asks as she sits on the foot of Serena's bed.

"I had a bad dream," Serena answers. "Sometimes I lose control when the dream is bad enough."

"Do you remember what you were dreaming of?" Storm inquires.

"That night in Central Park when those boys…," Serena start, but can't finish as she gasps for air and tries to blink back the tears that are threatening.

"It's alright, you don't have to explain," Storm assures her. "Has this happened before?"

"It happened a few times in jail," Serena replies as she sniffs and hastily wipes away the few tears that manage to escape. "I also ended up pushing Kitty's bed into the wall and knocking a hole in it a couple nights before I blew up my dresser."

"Great, something else for me to fix," Logan grumbles and Storm casts him a withering glare.

"Kitty didn't mention getting shoved across the room," Storm states.

"Kitty was in Rogue's room that night," Serena responds bitterly. "Like she's been every night since Rogue came back."

"Well, that's not going to be an issue any more," Storm tells her. "You're going to have a new roommate and I'd like you to try your best to get along with her since she's had a rough time of it too. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Ok," Serena whispers. "I'm not going to get to live with my grandparents, am I?"

"Serena, your grandparents haven't contacted us about wanting you to go live with them," Storm answers. "And truth be told, do you think they would be able to help you control your powers? Do they have a place where you can practice without being a danger to others?"

"No," Serena mutters, the pain very evident in that little word.

"Now, you're going to need help getting around until your feet heal," Storm says. "To that end, Mr. Logan will be your personal valet until you can get about on your own."

"What!?" Serena and Kurt yell in unison, before they both turn and stare at the man in question.

"Don't blame me," Logan grumbles. "I'm about as thrilled with this as you are."

"He will help you get to and from your classes and dinning room," Storm continues. "He'll also help you get your food at meal times. Since you'll need to take baths until you can stand on your own, you'll need to get in the bathroom earlier than everyone else which means Mr. Logan will be at your room half an hour earlier than you would normally need to get up."

"Do I get a say in this?" Serena asks, looking completely unhappy about the whole situation.

"I'm afraid not," Storm answers rather sternly. "You two need to learn to work together. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Serena meekly replies

"Ororo, may I speak vith you for a moment?" Kurt requests as he turns and heads for the door.

"Of course," Storm replies and follows him out of the room.

"Do you tink it vise to put them together like this?" he quietly asks once they're in the hallway.

"Once she's got control of her powers, she'll make a good addition to the team," she answers. "However, she'll be useless if she can't at least get along with Logan."

"Relationships are bazed on trust," he points out.

"I'm not asking them to become best friends," she replies. "I just want them to be able to work together without wanting to ring each other's necks."

"Like Logan and Scott got along?" he questions.

"Scott was able to take care of himself," she reminds him. "Serena is still learning. Besides, I'm sure Scott and Logan would have been fine if Logan hadn't decided he had the hots for Jean. Serena and Logan will be fine. I may not be Charles, but I think there's a scared little girl in there who's just trying to protect herself and Logan always was the protective type."

"Vell…if you're sure," he says hesitantly.

"Yes, Kurt, I'm sure," she states with a smile as she touches his shoulder and he gets a little weak in the knees.

* * *

Serena and Logan watch the other two leave and once the outer door closes, silence reigns supreme. Neither one of them wants to really look at the other but they both cast little glances at each other while shifting around nervously. He suddenly clears his throat and she all but jumps out of her skin when he does.

"Listen, about earlier," he stammers, nervously shifting his feet. "Sorry I yelled at ya."

"Why'd you do it?" she asks, only slightly mollified that he did apologize.

"I spent over eight hours tracking you," he tells her, a slight growl to his voice. "The others spent just as much time searching the grounds for you. I think Tweetie may have even broken a nail. The point is, kid, that we didn't sit around waiting for you. We take care of our own and like or not, you're one of us now."

Before she can think of anything to say to that, the phone rings and they both jump. He scowls at the device as it rings a second time and then he goes to answer it.

"Xavier's," he states gruffly.

"Hi, this is Amanda Simon; may I speak to Serena please?" Amanda requests, sounding almost desperate.

"Yeah, sure, hang on," he replies and takes the phone over to Serena. "It's your lawyer."

"Amanda?" Serena asks eagerly.

"Hey, girl, how's it going?" Amanda responds, relief very evident in her voice.

"Where've you been all day?" Serena demands, sounding very hurt. "I've been calling and calling."

"I know and I'm really sorry about that," Amanda replies sincerely. "You wouldn't believe the day I've had."

"Try me," Serena grumbles.

"Well, let's see," Amanda starts. "I got woken up before dawn by my sister and her husband trying to make me a new niece or nephew, then I got dragged to church where my mother absconded with my phone, and then I end up at a surprise birthday party. I didn't get my phone back until I got to the train station and by then I had to run to catch my train. I only just got a chance to turn my phone on."

"Your sister and her husband were having sex in the next room?" Serena inquires. "Eeww. What's 'absconded'?"

"Snagged, lifted, stolen," Amanda answers. "You know, what Kitty did with Mr. Wagner's underwear."

"Oh, right," Serena replies while she casts a quick glance at Logan who's standing next to the bed and she blushes furiously as she quickly turns back around, not seeing one of his eyebrows quirking upwards. "So, whose birthday party was it?"

"Mine," Amanda grudgingly tells her.

"Today's your birthday?" Serena nearly shrieks excitedly causing Logan to grimace in pain. "Oh my god, happy birthday."

"Unfortunately," Amanda mutters. "And thanks."

"How can you say that?" Serena asks in shock. "Birthdays are great! You get presents and cake and you get to have a party."

"You get older," Amanda grumbles.

"What's wrong with that?" Serena questions. "You get to do more things when you get older. You can vote, drink, drive…though doing those last two things together isn't a good idea. Getting older is great."

"Sure, you can say that now, since you're sixteen," Amanda points out. "You won't be saying that when you're thirty."

"You're thirty?" Serena gasps. "Oh my god, that's so old."

"Thanks," Amanda replies, sarcasm dripping from every letter.

"Oh god, that didn't come out right," Serena blabbers, not seeing Logan silently laughing behind her. "I didn't mean to say that you're old, it just that…well thirty is just…it's just…"

"Ancient?" Amanda suggests. "Decrepit? Antiquated? Passé? Prehistoric? Geriatric? Senile? Help me out here, kid, I'm running out of synonyms."

"I'm sorry, that just didn't come out right," Serena moans.

"It's ok," Amanda chuckles. "I used to think the same way when I was your age. So, how are you doing?"

"I'm ok, I guess," she answers a bit more subdued. "I've been sitting around all day. I've got blisters on the bottom of my feet so I can't walk very far without a lot of help. It's been pretty boring really. Ambassador McCoy and Mr. Wagner have been keeping me company all day, but I haven't been able to go anywhere yet. And I had to take a bath to get cleaned up."

"What's wrong with taking a bath?" Amanda asks. "I love taking baths."

"My dad, well my step-dad really, used to say that only babies take baths and he always made fun of me until I stopped taking them," Serena sadly answers. "I remember Mom used to love to take them too, but she stopped after she married him."

"Sounds like he was a bit of a control freak," Amanda states. "But that doesn't matter now since chances are very slim you'll ever see him again."

"Or my mom or my brother or sister," Serena states quietly as she lies down on the bed and curls into a fetal position.

"I'm sorry, Serena, I wish things were different," Amanda tells her.

"I know," Serena softly replies and there's silence for nearly a minute before she gets up the courage to ask what's on her mind. "Amanda, when I was in jail, did my grandparents ever call you?"

"No, but I did call them once," Amanda answers.

"Why'd you call them?" Serena asks, not noticing Storm and Kurt's return.

"I called them to see if they would be your legal guardians," Amanda replies.

"What did they say?" Serena nervously questions as it becomes hard for her to breathe.

"They said, 'no'," Amanda responds.

"But why?" Serena whimpers, tears burning her eyes.

"The short version is that it's because you're a mutant," Amanda reluctantly tells her.

"But they said they'd always love me," she cries as the tears start to flow. "I'm their granddaughter. They're supposed to love me."

"I'm afraid that what people are supposed to do and what they actually do, are often two different things," Amanda sadly replies.

"They're supposed to love me," she repeatedly sobs and she's not even aware that someone is picking her up or taking away the phone. "They're supposed to love me."

Logan shifts her in his arms and hands the phone over to Storm.

"It's that lawyer lady," Logan states and heads for the exit. "I'm taking her up to her room. Elf-boy, think you can handle bringing her stuff up without popping into the middle of the girl's wing?"

"I vould never teleport into the girl's ving," Kurt haughtily replies as he quickly collects Serena's books.

"Oh, really," Logan scoffs as he walks out the door. "Why's that?"

"For one think, it vould be wrong to do such a think," Kurt points out as he follows Logan. "For another, I can only teleport to places I know."

"Ya tellin' me that you've never been to the girl's wing?" Logan asks, not believing his ears.

"Never," Kurt confirms proudly. "I vould never dare enter their domain vithout good cause and I have never had a reason to in ze past."

"Damn, elf-boy, you need to get out more," Logan mutters.

"And vhere, Herr Logan, vould you suggest I go?" Kurt asks him sadly.

* * *

Amanda can hear Serena crying on the other end of the line and it kills her to be the one responsible for it. But there was no helping it, the girl had asked and Amanda had answered with the truth. After the grandparents had hemmed and hawed about taking Serena in, they finally told her point blank that they weren't interested in 'that mutant freak' living in their home, never mind 'that mutant freak' is their granddaughter.

A short time after Serena starts crying, Amanda can hear the phone moving away from the teen's mouth. A second later, she can hear the voices of a couple men and Serena crying in the background. Figuring she's simply dropped the phone down for a minute, she patiently waits for a bit before calling the girl's name.

"Serena?" Amanda calls out. "Serena? Are you there?"

"Miss Simon, this is Ororo Munroe," Storm states suddenly, startling the lawyer.

"Hello, Miss Munroe," Amanda greets, a bit surprised. "Where's Serena?"

"Logan is taking her up to her room," Storm replies. "What did Serena's grandparents tell you?"

"The short answer is that they refused to take her because she's a mutant," Amanda answers.

"I was afraid of that," Storm sighs, sitting down on the edge of one of the beds in defeat. "She was insisting that they love her and want her and that we should just send her there."

"I can't even begin to imagine how much that must hurt," Amanda softly states.

"Unfortunately, too many of our students do," Storm says sadly.

"I'm sorry, I wish there was something I could do to help," Amanda quietly replies.

"How about promising not to sue the next Serena has a fit?" Storm suggests.

"Deal and sorry about yesterday," Amanda chuckles. "I should let you go. Tell Serena if she wants to talk, all she has to do is call."

"I will," Storm assures her. "Goodbye, Miss Simon."

"Goodbye, Miss Munroe," Amanda replies and then closes her phone with a sigh.

* * *

"Ok, girls, men are coming up, so you better cover anything you don't want us to see!" Logan shouts as they're about half way up the stairs.

There's the sound of yelling, running feet and doors slamming just as Logan and Kurt come up the last few steps. Logan casually strolls along, still carrying Serena who's so lost in her own misery that she doesn't even seem to notice what's going on. Kurt walks along behind them keeping his eyes strictly on the floor to avoid seeing anything he shouldn't.

A few moments later and Logan is pushing through a partially closed door with a nervous Nightcrawler right behind him. Kurt casts quick furtive glances around the room to be sure that they're the only ones there and finally raises his head up. Logan sits down on one of the two beds and shifts Serena into his lap as Kurt puts her books down on the desk just before he disappears with his usual 'bamf'.

"Ya ok, kid?" Logan quietly asks.

"Not really," she sniffs. "But I guess I'll live."

"Good, cause I'd hate to explain to 'Ro what the hell happened to ya," he softly chuckles as he settles her on the bed next to him. "Ya need anything before I go?"

"No, I'm just really tired," she replies as she lets out a yawn. "I'll probably just crawl into bed and go to sleep. What do I do if I need to go to the bathroom or something?"

"Bang on the floor," he tells her. "I'm in the room just below you."

"Ok," she sighs tiredly. "Thanks, Mr. Logan. For everything."

"You're welcome," he replies as he stands up. "And just call me Logan. Feels weird when you call me mister."

"Ok," she agrees, looking like she's about to fall asleep sitting up. "Could you stop calling me 'kid'? I'm not a little girl anymore."

"Sure," he agrees as he steps through the door. "Good night, Serena."

"Night, Logan," she yawns.

He shuts the door behind him and she crawls across the bed to her new dresser. After going through a couple of drawers, she finally finds her pajamas and gets ready for bed. She snuggles under the covers and reaches over to turn off the light just when the bedroom door opens, revealing her new roommate.

"You," Serena hisses.


	13. Settling In

**Author's notes:** Thanks to Takerslady, nobodyathome, Ratdogtwo and Mythigal for your reviews. A bit of levity before things get…interesting. One quick note, if you've never heard of the Blue Man Group, just Google them.

* * *

The smell of brimstone tells her she's no longer alone and a moment later she can hear his quiet footsteps making their way across the roof of the mansion. She makes no move to acknowledge that he's there but continues to stare out at the lake with the nearly full moon reflecting off of its glass like surface. A moment later the footsteps still and all falls silent again though she knows he hasn't gone. 

"Am I needed for something?" Storm finally asks.

"_Nein_," Kurt tells her, watching her a bit shyly as a cold wind blows her hair around her head. "Are you not cold?"

"Cold and heat don't bother me thanks to my mutation," she replies, never taking her eyes off of the peaceful scene before her. "Have you been looking for me for long?"

"_Nein_," he repeats, not moving to get closer to her despite how much he wants to. "I just vished to let you know that Zerena is in her new room now. I'm afraid I didn't stay long after I put down her books, so I do not know how she's taken to her new roommate."

"Thank you for letting me know," she says and for about a minute there is only the sound of the wind blowing through the nearby trees. "I'll take the lack of anything blowing up as a good sign. Is there anything else?"

"Oh, um, _nein_," he hesitantly replies and she finally looks over her shoulder at him, hearing him shift nervously behind her.

"Would you like to sit and talk?" she asks, noting with some mild amusement that he looks both relieved and terrified at the suggestion.

"Oh, uh, _ja_," he stutters, covering the remaining distance between them in only a couple of steps and gaining his courage as he goes. "I vould be honored to sit and talk vith such a beautiful lady."

She smiles and blushes, ducking her head down as he sits next to her. For the next several minutes they sit there in silence, simply enjoying the presence of the other. He sits politely with his hands neatly folded in his lap and his tail on the far side of his body from her as they do nothing more than stare at the rising moon and its reflection.

"I wish the professor was still alive," she quietly sighs, her shoulders slumping with exhaustion. "We didn't have half the problems that we do now when he was here."

"Perhaps it only seems that vay since you vere not directly involved like you are now," he suggests, turning to look at her, his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

"Maybe," she slowly replies as she finally looks over at him. "It wouldn't hurt to have a few more teachers here to help carry the load. Unfortunately, I need people I can trust but it seems harder and harder to find anyone who's willing to make a stand. So many mutants can pass as normal humans, so they just blend in with the crowds instead of letting their voices be heard."

"Not Herr Hank," he reminds her.

"I know," she sadly smiles. "I've asked him to come back, but he still thinks he can make a difference out there."

"Perhaps he can," he points out. "If he does not stand for mutant rights, then who vill?"

"I know you're right," she sighs, turning her head back towards the lake. "But my heart just wishes he'd come home."

"You care for him, _ja_?" he questions, hoping his nervousness isn't evident in his voice.

"As a friend now," she assures him.

"But not always as a friend," he gently presses.

"No, at one time we were more," she tells him and he can see a deep sadness in her eyes. "But that was a long time ago."

"If you do not mind my asking…," he starts.

"What happened?" she finishes for him.

"_Ja_," he replies quietly.

"We were involved before he became like he is now," she states. "But then he changed…It upset him greatly and I tried to be there for him, but he just pushed me away. Eventually, he just ended it and I couldn't understand why. Later the professor told me that Hank thought that the professor was mind controlling me to make me love him."

"The professor vould never…," he gasps in shock.

"No, he wouldn't," she confirms. "At first I was so mad at Hank of thinking so little of the professor and of me…and then one day I realized that it wasn't us that he thought so little of. It was himself."

"If he did come back, vould you try to start over vith him?" he asks in a voice barely above a whisper.

"No, we're just good friends now," she answers, a small smile pulling at her lips. "My interests lie elsewhere now."

"Oh? Vhere?" he nervously inquires and she quirks an eye brow at her, her smile growing and realization dawns on him. "Oh."

She slowly leans towards him, nerves clutching at her stomach in fear that she's over stepped her bounds. He doesn't move at first, fear gripping him and holding him immobile. Then he takes a look into her eyes and all of his convictions pretty much blow away with the breeze and he meets her half way.

The kiss is soft and slow with no need to rush and they both bring up a hand to caress the other's cheek. They finally pull apart and smile at each other as they look into one another's eyes. Eventually, he sits back and puts an arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her towards him. With a contented sigh, she lays her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes.

"I guess I just have a thing for guys that are blue," she quietly sighs.

"Please don't ever go zee ze Blue Man Group," he nearly begs. "I don't zink I could handle ze competition."

She laughs as he pulls her closer and chuckles along with her.

* * *

"Before ya'll turn me into a red smear on the rug, Ah would like to state for the record that this wasn't my idea," Rogue nervously states and Serena just glares at her for several seconds before letting out a frustrated puff of air. 

"No, I suppose it wasn't," Serena sighs, slumping back into her pillow. "I doubt anyone wants to be my roommate after yesterday."

"Ah wouldn't say that," Rogue replies as she steps all the way into the room and closes the door behind her. "Some are pretty miffed that they had to spend their Saturday looking for ya, but Jubilee and Kitty were really upset that you took off."

"Kitty was upset?" Serena scoffs. "Please, she couldn't get out of our room fast enough after you came back."

"Kitty's a sweet girl, but she can have a bit of a one track mind," Rogue tells her as she walks over to her own bed and sits down on it. "Especially when she thinks a friend needs her. If ya'd just given her a bit of time, she'd have stopped walking out on ya."

"Yeah, well, in my experience, once someone walks out on you, they don't tend to come back," Serena grumbles scooting down further under the blankets.

"Like who?" Rogue asks.

"Pretty much everyone," Serena answers. "My dad before I was born, my step-dad never wanted me around and kicked me out the instant he found out I was a mutant, Mom pretty much left me emotionally when my little brother was born and I just found out my grandparents don't even want me."

"That's the way it is for a lot of us," Rogue points out. "There's a lot of kids here who don't have any place else to go. It seems that now a days parents rather their kids tell them that they're gay than that they're a mutant. It sucks, but that's the way it is."

"I feel pretty sorry for any gay mutants out there," Serena mumbles.

"Yeah, me too," Rogue chuckles as she gets more comfortable on her bed. "So, can we just start out fresh? You don't hate me because Ah threw everything into chaos around here and took your new best friend away and Ah don't hate you for making me spend my Saturday tromping around the grounds with some thirteen year old twerp that was trying to put the moves on me."

"You're kidding," Serena gasps in disbelief. "Some kid was hitting on you?"

"Yeah and he wasn't getting a hint either," Rogue replies with a smirk. "Ah spent my entire day trying to keep the kid from touching me. Ah finally got sick of it and let him kiss me on the cheek."

"So what does kissing you on the cheek do?" Serena asks.

"Didn't anyone tell you what my power is?" Rogue counter questions and Serena shakes her head 'no'. "Ah absorb people's energy, memories and personalities just by touching them skin to skin and if they're a mutant, Ah absorb their power too. The longer Ah touch them, the more Ah absorb. It's not fun for me or them. The first time it happened Ah put my boyfriend in a coma for three weeks."

"So that's why you took the Cure," Serena states.

"Yeah," Rogue sighs. "Ah should have known it would be too good to be true."

"How'd you find out it didn't work?" Serena inquires.

"Ah've been going to a private school in Boston," Rogue answers. "Storm thought it best that Ah go to school with other humans."

"Amanda says we're all humans," Serena states. "We're either mutants or non-mutants, but we're all still humans."

"Who's Amanda?" Rogue asks.

"My lawyer," Serena answers.

"Ah remember watching your case on TV," Rogue says. "She was the lady with the black hair and green eyes right? Really tall?"

"Yeah, that's her," Serena replies. "So, anyways, you were going to school in Boston."

"So the other day, it was such a nice day Ah decided to wear short sleeves and on my way to class Ah bumped into a guy also wearing short sleeves," Rogue responds, shifting around uncomfortably. "We only touched for a couple of seconds, but suddenly Ah knew he was on his way to his chemistry mid-term and he was worried that he'd fail because he and his girlfriend went out the night before and fooled around instead of him studying. Ah knew he had a dog named Sparky as a kid and his favorite team is the New York Giants. Hell, Ah even knew what he had for breakfast that morning. As Ah was getting over the shock of having all of these memories in my head, the guy went down on his hands and knees. He was shaking and panting like he'd run a hundred miles and when people came running up to help him Ah panicked that someone else would touch me. Ah got out of there as fast as Ah could and then Ah called here. It was shear dumb luck that Logan answered the phone."

"So that explains why when Bobby tried to hug you, you ran away," Serena whispers.

"Yeah, just when Ah need human contact the most, Ah can't have it any more," Rogue quietly states.

"LIGHTS OUT IN TEN MINUTES, GIRLS!" Logan's voice bellows from down the hall.

"Oops, Ah better go get changed," Rogue announces as she hops off her bed, goes to her dresser and pulls out some clothes. "We'll talk some more when Ah get back, if you like."

"Ok," Serena agrees with a yawn.

Rogue goes off to get ready for bed and goes through her nightly routine as fast as she can, but by the time she gets back Serena is sound asleep.

* * *

Logan stands on the landing just below the girl's wing listening for arguing voices coming from Rogue and Serena's room. With a sigh of relief, he only hears voices talking at a normal level coming from that floor. He checks his watch and makes the announcement for lights out just as Kitty comes up the stairs. 

"Hey, Wolvie," she smiles tiredly, stopping when she comes level with him. "Everything ok?"

"You mean have they killed each other yet?" he asks, ignoring the hated nickname the girls have given him.

"Yeah," she whispers.

"Nah, they seem to be getting along fine," he replies. "I can't hear what they're sayin', but there's no screamin' or yellin' and nothin's gone 'boom'."

"That's good," she sighs in relief and starts to go up the steps again.

"So, Kitten, I was wonderin'…," he smirks as he leans against a wall, knowing he's going to enjoy this.

"Wondering what?" Kitty asks, stopping her ascent to turn and look at him.

"What were you doin' stealin' elf-boy's undies?" he finishes.

"Eep!" she squeaks as her eyes get really big, her face turns bright red and she dematerializes right through the floor.

With a satisfied chuckle, Logan saunters back down the stairs and towards his room where a beer and a cigar with his name on them are waiting.

* * *

Hank returns to his apartment happily humming to himself, quickly kicking off his shoes and striping off his socks as soon as the door is shut. If polite society didn't demand that he wear the blasted things, he'd gladly go without. But instead of lamenting the troubles of custom made footwear, he heads for the kitchen where he tosses his torn socks out. 

He randomly whistles as he pulls out a Twinkie and eats it as soon as it's out of its wrapper, going back to humming as he does so. Once he's done, he heads over to the kitchen phone, slips a piece of paper out of his pocket with a new number on it and starts dialing. He continues humming as the other end rings, stopping only when he hears the person at the other end pick up.

* * *

After digging through her bags for a bit, Amanda finds the food she knew her mother would pack for the trip. The woman can be annoyingly self righteous at times, but Amanda knows she does it out of love and she always takes care of her family. Happily finding some left over chicken, fruit salad and a roll with a brownie for dessert tucked away in her bags, she begins to consume her dinner. 

Amanda knows she's partially to blame for the whole cell phone thing. If she just had the phone number she needed written down on a piece of paper, she wouldn't have needed to try and get the cell phone back so desperately. Oh well, live and learn.

Once her dinner is done, she carefully returns the empty containers to her bag and then looks for something else to do to occupy her time. Writing and drawing aren't impossible with the swaying of the train car, but they sure aren't as neat as she likes. So, instead of pulling out her new journal, she takes out the CD that Paul made for her.

After booting up her computer, she slips the disk in and sits back to watch. Pictures starting from her and Annie's birth start off the show and continue through their childhood as some of her favorite songs from those years, plays quietly in the background. A strange sadness grips her when she starts seeing the pictures of Annie always wearing her dark sunglasses, even on indoor shots. Before she can start getting melancholy about the sudden changes her life went through at that time, her phone rings. She pauses the slideshow, glances at the display and doesn't recognize the phone number, but she answers it anyways.

"Hello?" she greets.

"Amanda Simon?" a man's voice asks in a rich velvety voice.

"Yes?" she responds.

"This is Ambassador McCoy," Hank announces.

"Really, Brian, don't you ever give up?" she asks in exasperation. "Is it really necessary to keep tormenting me this way? Especially on my birthday of all days. Now please just stop it."

"Do I still sound too snooty?" Hank questions, spitting out the first thing that comes to mind, trying to keep her on the line.

"Yes!" she snaps. "In fact, you sound even snootier than last time!"

With that, she disconnects, turns the phone off and stuffs it in the bottom of her suitcase. Deciding that it would be enjoyable if she was in a better mood before taking a trip down memory lane, she turns off her computer and pulls out her book. Soon, she's lost in its pages and the rest of the world becomes a blur.

* * *

Hank stands there holding the phone for a good thirty seconds before finally returning the handset to the cradle. As soon as he lets go of it, he starts laughing and he can't seem to stop even if he wants too. By the time he's finally calmed down to an occasional snicker he finds himself sitting on the floor with tears of mirth on his face. 

"I have got to meet this woman," he chuckles as he gets up off the floor and dusts himself off before turning back towards the phone. "So, today is your birthday, my dear. Congratulations, I will most definitely have to convey my birthday wishes to you. But for now, it's time for a certain big blue simian mutant to be headed for bed. An especially good idea since I'm standing here talking _to_ my phone instead of on it."

With that, Hank heads for his bedroom and his bed where he lies staring at the ceiling, planning.

* * *

The next day, Hank walks into the office a bit late, an unbidden smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

"Good morning, Ambassador," Mary greets when he walks in, unable to stop her own smile at his obvious good mood.

"Good morning, Mary," Hank replies before handing her a card in an envelope. "Would you please see that this gets mailed?"

"Yes, sir," she responds as she takes the item handed to her.

"Thank you," he says as he steps into his office and prepares to start his work day.

She turns the card over and sees that it's already stamped and addressed to Amanda Simon. She's curious as to why he's sending the woman a card after already sending her a letter, but she just shrugs as she gets out of her seat. She drops the card into the outgoing mail pile on her way to the break room to get the Ambassador his morning cup of coffee. She never sees it slide off the top and fall behind the cabinet the basket is on, disappearing between the wall and the cabinet.

* * *

"You've got a delivery," Sarah announces when she sticks her head in Amanda's office. 

"Unless it's a pillow, I'm not interested," Amanda replies, never looking up from her computer.

"I think you might want this delivery," Sarah snickers.

"Can I cuddle up with it?" Amanda asks, tired eyes finally turning towards the secretary.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," Sarah laughs as disappears for a moment before returning with a large bouquet of flowers.

"Where'd that come from?" Amanda questions as she stares at the thing in wonder.

"Off hand, I'd say the florist," Sarah chuckles as she puts it down on the lawyer's desk. "What time did you get to bed last night?"

"My train didn't get to Penn Station until nearly two this morning," Amanda answers with a stifled yawn. "I think I finally crawled into bed around 2:30 or so. I wonder who they're from."

"There's a card," Sarah says as she plucks it out of the flowers and hands it to Amanda who opens it and reads. "So who are they from?"

"I don't know," Amanda replies in confusion. "All the card says is "Not from Brian'."

"'Not from Brian'?" Sarah asks, equally befuddled. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?"

"I haven't the foggiest."

* * *

_Nein_ – German, no 


	14. To The Ball

**Author's Notes**: Thank you Takerslady for your review and yes, much embarrassment is headed Amanda's way. evil grin So at long last, we're going to the ball. I hope people enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, please leave a review.

* * *

"Ok, as long as I don't plan on breathing, I'm good," Amanda whispers as James Jones finishes zipping up the last few inches of the back of her dress.

"You look lovely, my dear," he states as she turns to look at him. "You make a stunning Christine."

"Thanks," she gasps as she looks at the man who is a couple inches shorter than her without her shoes on. "You're looking very dashing yourself. The Phantom has never looked so handsome."

"Thank you," he replies as he bows with a flourish of his cape. "Are we about ready to go? Our limo is waiting."

"Almost," she answers as she drags herself across her hotel room, her skirts rustling with her every move, dragging behind her. "I need to get my shoes and earrings on and then I'm ready."

"Take your time," he assures her as he watches her start trying to pull up her skirts to find her feet so she can get her shoes on. "How many layers are there to those skirts?"

"I think there's enough material in this dress to completely rig up that ship from **Master and Commander** with a full set of sails," she grunts, trying to breathe while bent over in a dress that's a bit too tight. "Oh look, I do have feet."

He chuckles as she finally gets her shoes on and then heads over to the mirror to put her earrings in. She's still a bit startled to see her normally straight hair done in a cascade of black curls down her back, the mask's ribbons carefully hidden inside those waves. Despite the mask casting a shadow over her eyes, the green is still very noticeable and actually is a bit startling.

When she steps back to look at herself fully in the full length mirror, she must admit she doesn't look too bad. The cream colored dress flows around her in a sea of crinoline and lace, with the bodice giving her a lovely hourglass figure and the neckline suggests that she has a lot more cleavage than she really owns. He comes to stand next to her and unfortunately, her shoes have added even more height to her where she's now several inches taller than him.

"As I said, stunning," he repeats. "I shall be the envy of every man there."

"You're uncle's right," she chuckles as she goes to gather her wrap and her purse. "You could charm the scales off of a snake if you wanted to."

"That's my power," he admits. "To be incredibly charming when I want and persuading people into liking me. Not a flashy mutation, I'll admit, but it has its uses. So, out of curiosity, what's yours?"

"What's my what?" she asks, pretending not to understand him while adjusting her shawl.

"You're mutation," he clarifies. "What's your power?"

"I'm not a mutant," she answers, looking him straight in the eye.

"But you helped Serena," he states in confusion. "Why would you…"

"Believe it or not, James, not all non-mutants hate mutants," she tells him with a gentle smile. "I believe I'm ready now. Shall we go?"

"Yes, of course," he replies, quickly recovering and heading for the door, holding it open for her and she tries to pass him by without catching the voluminous skirt on anything or pinning him to the wall in the narrow hallway with it.

* * *

A while later, their limo pulls up in front of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum and as much as she'd love to stop and gawk, the night is much too cold to stand around dawdling with only a thin lace shawl to cover her nearly bare arms and shoulders. He quickly hustles her into the building and as they enter through the main entrance she gasps at the shear size of the place. Once she's done staring at all of the planes both on the ground and hanging from the ceiling, she turns her attention to all of the people milling about and stops dead in her tracks.

"Oh dear," she says, looking at the multitude of well dressed men in tuxes, capes and half masks.

"It seems they had a run on Phantom costumes," her own Phantom muses.

"I'll say," she replies a bit breathlessly, whether it's from the shock of seeing so many Phantoms of the Opera or from the tight dress, she's not sure. "At least half of the men here are dressed as Phantoms."

"I wouldn't go as far as to say half, but still, it is quite dizzying to see so many doppelgangers," he admits, turning to look at her. "But I must confess I believe the prettiest Christine is the one on my arm."

"Snake charmer," she smirks, not unkindly. "Where shall we meet if we get separated?"

"As if I'd let you out of my sight for a moment," he chuckles as they make their way through the throng of people. "Fear not, my dear, you and I shall be inseparable this evening, no need to fret."

"If you say so," she mutters worriedly.

* * *

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this, Ororo" he mutters unhappily.

"It was part of the deal, Hank, and you agreed to it," she replies, trying not smirk at his obvious discomfort.

"If I knew what you had planned, I would have suddenly found a way to come down with a cold," he grouses, pulling at the collar of his costume. "Or influenza or the mumps or any number of contagious diseases that the President wouldn't have any choice but to let me skip this little soiree."

"What are you complaining about?" she asks as she tries to surreptitiously pull her dress further up her body. "It's not like you're in any danger of falling out of the top of your costume."

"But must you have picked **Beauty and the Beast**, Ororo?" he grumbles.

"Would you like some cheese with that whine?" she teases as they make their way through the crowd of people filling the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. "Besides, it could have been worse. I could have picked **The Phantom of the Opera**."

"While I must say that the Phantom and I do share a few traits, seeing as we're both highly intelligent men that are shunned because of our looks, I do see your point," he replies as yet another Phantom and Christine walk by. "The place is absolutely crawling with them. I almost expect one of them to start singing _The_ _Music of the Night_ at any moment."

"Oh goddess, I hope not," she groans at the thought as they continue through the crush of people.

"Not a fan of Andrew Lloyd Webber?" he asks, his sensitive ears picking up the sounds of instruments tuning up not to far away.

"Not a fan of people who can't carry a tune in a bucket," she grumbles. "So we're here, now what?"

"Now we mingle and try to make a good impression on people letting them know that mutants aren't as evil and dangerous as the media makes us out to be," he replies as they continue on.

"And how do we do that?" she asks, finally noticing that he seems to have a destination in mind.

"We dance," he answers just as the band starts to play.

* * *

Well, it has to be some kind of record. One moment she was looking up at the Hubble Space Telescope replica that they have on exhibit while James was rubbing elbows with some politician whose name she's already forgotten and the next, when she brought her attention back to Earth, he was gone. Not that she knew it at first. Another Phantom had taken his place and she didn't realize it until another Christine had slipped her arm in his.

"Great," she mutters as she starts to search through the milling throng.

A quick glance at her cell phone hidden in her purse tells her that she's managed to lose her boss's nephew in less than an hour.

"He'll probably sick Steele on me if I don't find the little twerp," she mutters to herself as she tries to carefully check each Phantom she sees and she sees a lot of them. "Just my bloody luck."

She searches from one end of the place to the other, coming up empty on her search. When they had arrived, there were already a couple of hundred people at the museum and now there's at least double that with more coming and the ratio of Phantom costumes to others is still nearly 1:1. She groans in near desperation as she stands on her tip toes and looks around the dance floor.

Just before she gives up and turns away a flash of unusual color catches her attention out of the corner of her eye. She gives it a good long look and a smile creeps across her face. Yes, this will do perfectly, well, almost perfectly.

* * *

"Having fun so far, my dear?" Hank asks as he leads Storm through a waltz.

"The dancing has been fun," she admits. "But hobnobbing with all of these politicians has left a bit to be desired."

"I believe I've done my civic duty with the hobnobbing, so there's no one I have to go and say 'hi' to," he states. "We could leave if you like or we could keep dancing. But personally I'd rather stay since I'm very of curious to see if she'll keep following us

"She who?" she asks, looking at him in confusion.

"Over by the stage," he tells her. "The left hand side, there's a lone woman in a cream colored dress with black hair."

"The tall one that looks like she's trying to find someone?" she questions.

"That's her," he responds.

"She looks like another Christine," she states as he spins her around so the woman is behind her.

"Yes, but where is her Phantom?" he rhetorically queries. "I noticed a couple of hours ago that she was following us, but I just thought I was just imagining things. After all, there just as many Christines here as there are Phantoms and they all pretty much look the same. But I'm fairly sure it's the same woman."

"Why do you think she's been following us?" she asks as he starts to move closer to the stage.

"I think she's lost her Phantom and she's looking for him and maybe she's hoping that he'll seek me out," he answers. "At least that's what I'm hoping and that she doesn't have some other dire plan in mind. At any rate, she's followed us all around the museum."

"Are you sure it's the same woman?" she inquires. "After all, everyone is wearing masks and there are a lot of women here that are dressed almost exactly like her.

"As you pointed out, she's rather tall," he reminds her. "And I've noticed that no two women are wearing the same exact dress, so I'm fairly sure I've been seeing her wherever we've gone the last couple hours."

"Are we dancing closer to get a better look?" she questions as he spins her towards the stage.

"Yes," he replies.

They twirl past the place the woman had been standing just a moment ago and they can see she's moved a little ways off. She still looks like she's searching for someone and doesn't look to happy about it either. She glances in their direction briefly and then quickly turns away, moving through the crowd, steadily making her way around the dance floor. He's disappointed that he didn't get close enough to get a good look at the woman, but he feels Storm stiffen in his arms and he looks down at her.

"What's the matter?" he asks as quietly as he can and still be heard over the music.

"Well, I can't be a hundred percent sure," she starts hesitantly while he looks back towards the woman's retreating back. "But from the brief look I got of her face, I could swear that's Amanda Simon."

"Why do you think that?" he nearly demands, his full attention back on his friend.

"Black hair, green eyes and again, look how much taller she is than most of the other women around here," she responds as they look back and see her disappear around a corner. "I'm not completely sure since I only saw her for a moment from a distance, but those eyes are pretty intense."

"I would love to meet the lady, if that is her," he states, still staring at where they last saw her.

"Then go talk to her," she tells him as the music ends and they stop dancing while everyone politely claps. "It's not like she's afraid of mutants."

"I could, but you've met her, you can make the introductions," he decides, barely noticing that the band leader is stating that the band is taking a break.

"Actually, I'm probably the reason she hasn't come any closer to you," she points out.

"Why do you think that?" he asks, confused and a bit disappointed.

"Well, she did threaten to sue the school," she reminds him.

"I thought all of that got taken care of when you last talked to her," he says.

"It was, but that doesn't mean that we're best friends," she replies as she waves towards where they last saw their mystery Christine. "Besides, I'm not positive it is her and who knows where she's gotten off to now."

"Probably not far," he snickers and she looks at him questioningly. "Maybe it's time to turn the tables. I have an idea."

He outlines his plan to her and she shakes her head while she chuckles.

"Is there any particular reason why you want to torment this woman?" she asks.

He tells her about the phone calls and the ending result of them and she can't help but laugh.

"She actually said you sounded snooty?" she chuckles.

"Yes," he huffs, pretending to be affronted. "In fact, the last time I tried calling her, she said I sounded even snootier then the previous times. So, are you going to help me or not?"

"Fine, I'll help you, but don't blame me if she back hands you when you scare the hell out of her," she answers. "What exactly do you want me to do?"

He grins and then tells her what he wants from her. A minute later, they go their separate ways through the crowd, both watching out for their mystery woman.

* * *

Ok, her birthday hadn't been the best day of her life, but at least it hadn't hurt. Right now, it's a tie on the frustration level, but at least her feet, legs, shoulders and back didn't feel like they want to revolt on her birthday. She's beginning to think that there are lead weights hidden in the many layers of the dress, not to mention that the shoes feel like they've shrunk a couple of sizes and are pinching her tired feet, she's fairly sure if she takes a deep breath she'll snap a couple ribs and the mask is making her face itch. She can't recall being this uncomfortable ever before, not even when she wore that god awful bride's maid dress at her sister's wedding and it doesn't help that she still hasn't found James. Her stomach growls at its displeasure of being ignored for so long and she just sighs in near defeat.

She had hoped that since James admitted that he's a mutant himself, he'd head for the most obvious mutant in the place, but no. After trailing around behind McCoy for nearly three hours, there's still no sign of her 'date' and she's about ready to call it quits. McCoy's returned to the dance floor with Storm and while the woman doesn't seem to be jumping for joy being here, at least she's having more fun than Amanda. At least if she loses her date, he's easy to find.

"Where the bloody hell has the little twerp gotten off to?" she growls to herself.

After checking out the area around the dance floor, she moves on to the surrounding galleries in hopes of spotting James. When she notices that the band has stopped playing, she decides to give following the Ambassador one last shot and heads back towards the West Gallery, still keeping an eye out for her date. Deciding that if at midnight she still hasn't found James, she's calling a cab and going back to the hotel and her job be damned. Getting Steele off of her back isn't worth this much pain and aggravation.

When she gets near the dance floor she can see that it's mostly cleared out except for one woman standing in the middle who seems to be waiting. The fact that the woman is an African American with white hair leaves no doubt in Amanda's mind who she is, but she's just standing there on her birthday. Amanda looks around for McCoy, but doesn't see him right off so she stands up on her aching toes to see if she can spot him.

"Looking for something?" a deep, rich, velvety baritone asks.

With a startled squawk, Amanda tries to jump and turn around at the same time, but from up on her toes and the vast number of yards of material around her legs, all she manages to do is lose her balance. Before she can draw breath to scream, she can feel herself falling backwards with no way to stop herself.


	15. Twisted

Author's Notes: Thank you darkwhiterose, Takerslady, punkcatwitissues, LadyOfThePlains and J.Tyler for your reviews. So yes, Amanda and Hank finally meet this chapter. Oh, the things I have planned for these two. evil laughter

* * *

It takes him very little time to find her; the only trick now is stay out of sight until the right moment. Fortunately, she's so absorbed in looking for her Phantom that she doesn't seem to notice a Beast following her. At one point he gets close enough to smell her perfume and hear the rustling of her dress; all the while she's completely oblivious to his presence.

"Where the bloody hell has the little twerp gotten off to?" he hears her growl to herself and he has to quietly chuckle to himself.

Her searching eventually leads her back towards the dance floor that's mostly empty, though the band is returning to the stage and he quietly moves closer like a big blue lion stalking its prey. Just as he predicted, when she sees Storm standing in the middle of the dance floor by herself, she stops. This will be the trickiest part since she's now looking for him and he actually gets down in a crouch to get out of her line of sight drawing funny looks from other party goers, but he doesn't care, he's having too much fun. He manages to get right behind her just as she stands on her tip toes and he knows that its time.

"Looking for something?" he nearly purrs next to her ear.

She lets out a rather unlady like sound, loses her balance and starts to fall towards him. With relative ease, he catches her in his arms and looks down at her startled face. He stares at her and he's not sure who's more surprised, her when she sees who has hold of her or him because of those incredible green eyes. But he doesn't get much of a chance to gaze at them as she starts to struggle to stand back up.

"Oh my god, Ambassador, I'm so sorry," she gasps as she tries to right herself while the band starts to play again.

Between her shoes not being properly on her feet, the vast amount of material of the skirt and her haste to get back on her feet, it's a disaster waiting to happen. No sooner does she push herself upright than one of her ankles twist causing her to shout in pain as she loses her balance and starts falling to the side. He quickly reaches out and catches her again, but this time making sure he has a firmer grip on her so she can't get away.

"Are you alright?" he asks in concern.

"I think I just twisted my ankle," she gasps as the pain shoots up her leg.

"Try to put weight on it," he instructs as he rights her, still maintaining his grip.

"OW!" she yelps as she quickly sifts her weight onto her uninjured foot. "Yup, I twisted it. Perfect."

"Is everything alright?" Storm asks as she comes up to them.

"I'm afraid Miss Simon has twisted her ankle," he answers, not letting go of the injured woman as she balances on one foot. "We should get her seated and then get some ice on that ankle."

"There's seating upstairs," Storm states. "I'll go find a waiter and get some ice."

"Good idea," he replies as he bends over and scoops Amanda up into his arms before she can object while Storm disappears through the crowd.

"Do I get a say in any of this?" Amanda asks as Hank lifts her as if she weighs no more than a feather.

"No, I'm afraid not," he answers with a smile on his face.

"Well, as long as we're clear on the matter," she states, feeling the blood rushing to her face as he makes his way through the crowd, drawing a lot of stares.

"Very clear," he replies, a smirk firmly planted on his lips.

"You know, normally I would be protesting being handled this way," she tells him as they make their way from the dance floor that's filling up with dancers.

"And normally I wouldn't be going all primeval on you, but you, my dear, owe me a few answers and I must insist on having them," he responds jovially. "Now, before you protest, let's get you someplace where I can have a look at that ankle and then we will talk."

"And I really get no say in this," she repeats.

"That's right," he confirms and she sighs in defeat, not that she really minds being carried since her feet are killing her, she can feel her ankle swelling and she's dog tired.

Not sure what to do with herself, she tentatively puts her arm around his shoulders just to keep from being bounced around as he carries her through the people milling about. She doesn't want to look at the people staring at them so she turns her attention to the ambassador. He smells incredibly good and despite the blue fur, she can see a very handsome face there. She doesn't realize she's staring until he glances down at her and she feels her cheeks suddenly get very hot. She quickly looks down and realizes he can see straight down her dress. She tries to pull her shawl over her chest without making it too obvious, but there's just no subtle way to do it.

He tries not to chuckle when he sees her try to cover herself since if he had wanted to, he could have already had a good long look at her cleavage. Fortunately for her, he would never offend a lady by ogling her, of course telling her that is out of the question. Instead he just takes in a deep breath and quickly identifies her shampoo, soap, perfume, makeup, lotion, deodorant, hairspray and underneath it all, unique only to her, is her own true scent which he knows he won't be forgetting any time soon.

"Well, this won't do," he mutters as he stops and stares at the throng of people waiting for the elevators. "We'll just have to take the stairs."

"I don't think I can climb stairs right now," she nervously states as he turns and continues walking through the crowd.

"That's good since I have no intention of letting you," he replies, marching along proudly with his catch.

"What about the escalators?" she suggests as he goes right past the devices.

"I'm afraid your dress might become caught since it's dragging along the ground," he tells her. "Your dry cleaner isn't going to like me."

"It's not my dress and right now you have no idea how happy that makes me," she sighs as he starts up the stairs.

A minute later and they enter the upper area that's nearly as crowded as down stairs except that there are round tables of various diameters scattered down the length of the hall. Hank comes to a stop at the top of the stairs and looks around for an empty chair. She looks around as well, but it looks as if all of the seats are spoken for. She's about to suggest just sitting on the stairs when he suddenly heads for a dark corner of the museum. She turns to see Storm waiting for them there by an empty table with a man in a server's outfit next to her.

"Is everything all right, sir?" the man asks nervously as Hank carefully deposits Amanda in one of the chairs.

"Oh, yes, just a bit of a mishap," Hank assures him.

"Klutzy me, I stepped on my skirt and twisted my ankle," Amanda says as she gets comfortable in her seat.

"Is there anything you need?" the man inquires, still jumpy.

"A bag of ice, if you please," Hank requests as he takes the seat next to Amanda.

"Right away," the man replies with a nod before turning and beating a hasty retreat.

"Sorry about that," Storm grumbles as she sits down at another seat. "I asked for a bag of ice and he wanted to know why. I told him, but he didn't believe me and insisted on seeing for himself."

"That's alright, 'Ro," Hank assures her. "With the President here, the staff is likely to be a bit jumpy."

"I suppose," Storm mutters and then stands back up. "I'm going to get something to drink. Would either of you like something?"

"Yes, please," Amanda answer while she slips her feet out of her shoes with a sigh of relief

"That would be lovely 'Ro, thank you," he says and then turns towards Amanda. "May I see your foot, please?"

"Just as soon as I find it," she replies as she starts pulling up the many layers of her skirts.

"My goodness, I've seen sailing ships with less material," he chuckles and she snickers along with him.

"Ah, there it is," she announces when the appendage is finally revealed.

Without a word, he gently takes her foot in one hand while pulling his glasses out of his coat pocket with the other. She twitches as he examines her and he looks up at her over the top of his glasses. She looks like she's trying to remain very still, but only just managing it. At first he thinks it's because he's a mutant and a rather obvious one at that until he turns his gaze onto her face. She's biting her lip and it looks like its taking everything she has not to laugh.

"Let me guess, my fur tickles," he says with an amused look on his face.

All she can do is nod so he pulls out his handkerchief to guard her from his ticklish fur and then goes back to examining her foot. He asks her to wiggle her toes and carefully feels for anything that could be out of place as she silently watches him, too tired to be concerned what anyone might think about this. Just as he's finishing his exam, the server returns with a bag of ice on a tray and holds the tray out to Hank, putting as much distance he can between himself and the Ambassador without being completely rude.

"Thank…," Hank begins as he picks up the bag and the server makes himself scarce as fast as possible. "…you."

"I'm surprised he didn't leave a tread mark on the floor," she nearly growls, scowling at the server's quickly retreating back.

"You know, the newspapers all said that you're not a mutant," he states with a quizzical look on his face.

"I was raised by a couple of wannabe hippies," she replies with a shrug. "I got the whole, 'make love, not war' thing when growing up. Any surprise people who are different don't tend to bother me so much?"

"I wish more people were raised that way," he sighs as he stands, puts her foot on his seat and then carefully puts the ice on it.

"It would be nice, but then I'd probably be out of a job," she replies with a smile and he chuckles as he takes the next seat over.

"I got water," Storm announces as she steps up to the table and sets bottles down in front of the other two. "I'm glad to see that waiter didn't conveniently 'forget' to bring you the ice."

"Ah, thank you, Ororo, you're an angel," Hank says with a smile while putting away his glasses.

"Thank you very much," Amanda echoes as she opens her bottle. "How's Serena doing?"

"She's doing better," Storm answers. "She's hoping you'll come and visit soon."

"I was planning on coming up next weekend," Amanda tells her. "Would that be alright?"

"Next weekend will be fine," Storm assures her. "Are you just coming for a day or the whole weekend?"

"Oh, I didn't know there was an option," Amanda replies in surprise. "I'm not sure yet, it depends on a case I'm working on and whether we can get a court date set soon. Why don't I let you know later in the week?"

"That'll be fine," Storm replies.

"How's Serena getting along with Kitty?" Amanda asks. "I know she was still a bit upset when I last heard from her."

"Kitty is mad at her now and I'm not sure why," Storm responds, perplexed. "It's something about a secret being told and I can't get anything more out of them. But whatever it is, it seems to involve Logan."

"I'll see what I can get out of her next weekend," Amanda assures her. "And if worse comes to worse, I'll play legal mediator."

"Thank you," Storm sighs with relief. "I swear teenage girls can be a real handful."

"According to my mother teenage girls are aliens pretending to be human until they're around eighteen," Amanda says and the other two chuckle.

"Does you're mother have a lot of experience with teenage girls?" Hank asks, finally joining the conversation.

"Just me and my sister," Amanda answers. "But according to her, we were plenty. She says all of her gray hairs have our names on them."

"So, what's the age difference?" he inquires as he takes a sip of his water.

"Ten minutes in my favor," Amanda answers. "Mom always says I've always been the pushy one so it only made sense that I came out first."

"Identical or fraternal?" he questions.

"We're identical," Amanda replies.

"It's hard to believe that the world was blessed with two beautiful women at the same time," he says and she immediately starts to blush.

"Thank you," she mumbles as she takes a quick drink of her water and stares down at her lap.

_Where the devil did that come from?_ He thinks to himself, thanking the heavens that his fur covers his own blushing, before continuing aloud. "I'm certainly the luckiest fellow this evening to have the company of two lovely ladies with me. But I'm afraid that my good fortune comes at the price of another's misfortune. So tell me, my dear, where is your Phantom?"

"Now there's the $6400 question," Amanda sighs, looking back up. "I turned to look at one of the exhibits and when I turned back, he was gone."

"So why follow me around if you're looking for him?" he asks.

"Well, he's an up and coming who is pro-mutant," she answers.

"Ah, so you thought he would come and find me," he states.

"Like a moth to the flame," she replies. "At least that was my hope. I don't understand why he didn't go talk to you, but it could be that he met you before I noticed you were here. Either way, I wasted my time."

"It could be that I did speak to him earlier this evening," he says. "What's his name?"

"James Jones," she responds.

"The name doesn't sound familiar, sorry," he replies.

"That's ok, it means I didn't miss him," she tells him with a shrug. "Just wish I knew where he got off to."

"Didn't you set up a meeting place if you got separated?" he inquires.

"I tried to, but he assured me that he wouldn't let me out of his sight," she answers as she reaches down and adjusts the ice on her ankle. "Guess I should have seen this coming."

"Well, his loss, my gain," he chuckles and she can feel her cheeks heating up again. "The question is now, what do you plan on doing if you can't find him?"

"I'll call a cab," she replies. "I've got my cell phone and some money, so I'm no danger of being stranded."

"That's good," he sighs with relief, sitting back in his chair and getting more comfortable. "Speaking of cell phones, Serena kept trying to reach you last weekend, but wasn't able to get through. What happened?"

"Oh, that," she groans embarrassment. "My mother kidnapped my cell phone and wouldn't give it back until my dad dropped me off at the train station to go home. I was not a happy camper, I can tell you."

"Not a nice thing to do," he says as he tries not to smile. "Especially on your birthday."

"I know, it about drove me…," she starts and then confusion sets in. "How did you know it was my birthday?"

"I have my sources," he answers while his lips twitch as they try to break into a smile. "Tell me, my dear, who's Brian?"


	16. Realization

**Author's Notes:** Thank you LadyOfThePlains, Ratdogtwo, WickedGood, Takerslady, dog youkai jane and J. Tayler for your reviews. You guys are the greatest.

* * *

Storm sits and watches the two of them talking, paying careful attention to her old friend and wondering if he's even aware that he's flirting with the other woman. His sudden compliment of Amanda's beauty catches her by surprise, but from the look on his face, it caught him by surprise too. When the question about Brian is finally brought up, she knows it's time for her to make her exit.

"I need to go powder my nose," she announces, quickly standing up and heading off before either of them notice.

Storm moves off before they can react, making her way through the tables as swiftly as she can, considering the dress she's wearing. She's just glad she's not wearing something similar to what Amanda has on. How the woman can even move in that thing is beyond her.

As she passes one of the larger tables, she can see quite a large crowd around it. As she attempts to get by, a name catches her attention and she moves in a little closer. A man wearing a Phantom costume who would normally just blend into the background is, for lack of a better term, holding court with a couple dozen people surrounding him. But what's really strange in her mind are the several bottles of champagne sitting on the table when none of the other tables have bottles.

* * *

"Brian who?" Amanda asks, barely aware of Storm's exit.

"I don't know, you've never told me his last name," Hank replies, thoroughly enjoying himself. "But tell me, do I still sound snooty to you?"

He watches her as she stares at him in confusion for a good thirty seconds before realization dawns on her. He has to bite the inside of his cheek as her eyes get to be about as big as dinner plates, color drains from her face and a look of absolute dismay comes over her face. She covers her mouth with her hand as the blood returns full force and she practically glows red.

"Oh god, no," she whispers in horror and he can't stop the chuckle that's trying to get out. "Oh dear god, no. Please god, no. Oh my god, please tell me I haven't hanging up the UN Ambassador all this time."

"I'm afraid so, my dear," he snickers and she lets out a cry of anguish as she drops her face into her hands.

"Nonononononononononononono," she wails and he can't help but laugh.

She suddenly drops her hands down to the edge of the table and then begins banging her head on the table. He quickly reaches a long arm out, gets the candle out of the way and gets his large hand between her forehead and the table.

"Now, now, let's have none of that," he chuckles as he makes her look at him.

"Ambassador," she moans in shame. "... um... uh... I'm sure there's an appropriate thing to say at this moment... probably some formal apology for the 'snooty' remarks would be in order, I just... I don't quite know how to word it."

"No, it's my fault," he replies, still smiling. "I shouldn't have called you at home or on your cell. I should have called you at the office."

"No, no, of course not...," she stammers, still completely embarrassed. "I mean, yes, you can call me wherever you want... home was fine, cell was fine, when I said, 'of course not,' I meant... that... You know what, to hell with it, I'm moving to another country! I wonder if Tibet needs a lawyer."

"You'll have to learn Tibetan," he points out, still amused.

"Is it possible to die of embarrassment?" she asks.

"Fortunately, no," he answers.

"Damn," she mutters under her breath.

With that, she slumps back into her seat, dropping her face back into her hands, letting out little whimpers every once and a while as she sits there and it's very hard for him to keep from laughing. He watches her and gets this overwhelming urge to comfort her, but as he reaches a hand out, he stops himself. He stares at his large, blue furry mitt and sighs, knowing that a Beauty such as her would never be interested in a Beast like him.

* * *

Storm stands back from the crowd and listens to a joke being told by the man who seems to have everyone's rapt attention. When he's done telling the joke all of the others laugh as if it's the funniest thing they've ever heard and she just frowns. The joke wasn't that funny and she doesn't understand everyone's reactions.

She moves a bit closer to the group surrounding the table when suddenly she feels very relaxed and it's like all of her troubles are very far away, sort of like how she feels after a glass of wine. She's drawn towards the man sitting at the other end of the table as if he is some guiding light. She moves around the seated people to get closer to him and when she's about half way there he notices her.

"Well, hello there, I'm James Jones," the man states, turning his full attention to Storm and people turn to look at her. "And who might you be?"

"Ororo Munroe," she answers and she can't help feeling that this is the nicest man in the world.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful lady," he smiles and she blushes at the compliment. "How appropriate you're dressed as Beauty, but where is your Beast?"

"He's back over that way," she replies, pointing in the direction that she's just come from. "I believe he's with your Christine."

"Is he now?" he asks as he stands and offers his arm to her. "Then I guess I better go and claim her. Wouldn't want the wrong beauty to tame the savage beast."

He laughs and everyone laughs with him, including Storm as she takes his arm and she doesn't understand why she didn't think he was funny before. As they start to make their way around the table, midnight is called and everyone removes their masks. As the masks are quickly removed, James stops to say goodbye to the people at the table as they get ready to go home. As soon as the farewells are given, James starts to escort Storm away and she never sees the people suddenly stumble for a moment before shaking their heads and blinking as if the champagne has suddenly gone to their heads, even the ones that weren't drinking.

* * *

Hank gladly pulls his mask off, shaking his head at the stupidity of it all. What's the point of wearing a mask when you stand out like a sore thumb in any crowd? The only person who could possibly stand out more would be Nightcrawler and that's only because he has a tail.

"You can take your mask off now," he states when he notices that she hasn't moved her hands away from her face.

"No I can't," she sighs, finally dropping her hands into her lap. "The hairdresser wove the ribbons into my hair and she said that I'll need help getting them out. If I try it myself then I'll probably end up pulling out a lot of hair."

"May I try?" he asks.

"If you want," she answers dejectedly.

"If you don't want me to touch you, I won't," he says, trying not to be hurt or offended.

"It's not that," she replies. "It's been a long night. I've lost my date, I'm tired, my feet hurt, I twisted my ankle, I've given myself a headache, my boss is going to have my guts for garters and did I mention that I just found out that I've spent the past few weeks repeatedly insulting the UN Ambassador?"

"I wouldn't say 'insulting' so much as baffling," he responds as he stands up and moves around behind her. "But you haven't answered my question. Who _is_ Brian?"

"One of my cousins," she answers as she stares down at her hands as he starts to follow the ribbons into her hair. "He loves playing practical jokes and doing voice impersonations."

"Ah, that does explain why you didn't believe it was me," he replies as he starts to work his way through the soft curls. "So, why will your boss have your guts for garters?"

"My date is his nephew," she responds, surprised how gentle such a big man can be.

"Oh, that will make things rather interesting come Monday morning," he states as he finds the first bobby pin holding one of the ribbons in place. "I'm going to have to remove the pins holding your hair up in order to free the ribbons."

"That's fine," she replies, as she closes her eyes, enjoying the feel of him playing with her hair even if it's just to remove the bobby pins.

"So, how long have you known James?" he asks after about a minute of silence.

"Well, that depends on your definition of long," she answers slowly, nearly asleep. "My boss asked me to be James's date a few weeks ago and we talked over the phone a few times. We didn't actually meet face to face until a few nights ago when he took me out to dinner."

"I'd say that's not very long," he replies as he pulls out the last bobby pin. "I think that's the last of them."

She reaches up and slowly pulls the mask away from her face, being careful just in case not all of the bobby pins were found. As soon as the mask is pulled free and the ribbons come loose, her hair falls around her face and she drops the mask on the table with a sigh of relief. After moving around to her side, he puts a finger under her chin and makes her look up at him. Intelligent eyes that are such a light shade of green that they're almost yellow gaze back at him and he can't help but feel entranced by them.

"Thank you, Ambassador," she whispers.

"It was my pleasure," he quietly assures her. "And please call me…"

"Amanda, there you are!" a new voice calls out loudly, startling Hank and nearly making him growl.

"Hello, James," Amanda says with no joy in her voice.

Hank straightens up and turns around to find a rather ordinary looking man walking towards them with Storm on his arm. His first instinct is to instantly dislike the man for abandoning Amanda but that all changes as James gets closer. Suddenly Hank can't wait to make this young man's acquaintance and he steps forward with his hand out.

"Ambassador Henry McCoy at your service," Hank states as the other man reaches out and shakes his hand.

"James Jones at yours," James replies as he turns his attention to Storm. "I found this lovely lady and I believe she belongs to you."

"I believe she does," Hank says as he holds out his hand and Storm reluctantly takes it, allowing Hank to pull her away. "And I believe this lovely creature is yours."

"You had me most worried, young lady," James gently admonishes as Hank moves out of his way.

"I'm sorry, James" Amanda says, sounding truly contrite. "I tried to find you, but then I twisted my ankle and the Ambassador was nice enough to help me."

"Thank you, sir, I am truly in your debt," James says when he turns to Hank then turning back to Amanda. "Do you think you can walk?"

"I think so," Amanda answers as she pulls the bag of ice off of her ankle before dropping it on the table and standing with James's help.

"How does it feel?" James inquires, keeping a good grip on her.

"It's ok," Amanda replies as she gingerly puts weight on the hurt foot. "I should be fine as long as you help me."

"Of course, my dear," James assures her as he positions himself by her side with one arm around her waist and the other under her elbow. "Are you ready to go?"

"Just let me pick up my shoes and then I'll be ready to go," Amanda tells him as she turns and moves her skirts out of the way to find the little torture devices.

"Here, allow me," Hank offers as he picks her heels up and hands them to her.

"Thank you, Ambassador," Amanda smiles as she takes the shoes. "For everything."

"It has been my pleasure, my dear," Hank replies with a smile of his own.

"Shall we go?" James asks a bit forcefully.

"If you want," Amanda answers.

With that, James ushers Amanda away as quickly as he can since her ankle is still tender. As James and Amanda disappear into the crowd of exiting party goers, both Hank and Storm get a wave of the dizzies and barely manage to stay upright by holding onto each other. They blink a few times as if they're just waking up and look at one another in confusion.

"What just happened?" Storm asks as a shiver runs down her back.

"I'm not entirely sure," Hank answers as he makes sure she's steady on her feet before releasing her. "One moment I'm quite prepared to give that young man a good tongue lashing for abandoning Miss Simon and the next I wanted him to be my best friend. How very odd."

"When I found him there were at least a couple dozen people sitting around the table he was at," she tells him. "He didn't seem to be the least concerned that his date has been missing for a couple hours. He told some really lame joke and everyone laughed as if they hadn't heard anything funnier in their entire lives. When I got close to him it suddenly felt like I had just finished a glass of wine and I haven't had any alcohol all evening. Do you think he's a mutant?"

"He has to be," he replies, a frown on his face that turns to one of worry. "And we just let him take Miss Simon with him. Heaven knows what he can make her do."

"Look, she forgot her mask," she says, pointing at the object on the table.

"We must hurry, my dear," he states as he grabs the item and heads for the stairs. "I don't trust that man."

With that he's racing towards the stairs, trying not to run anyone over in his mad rush. She follows him as best she can in heels and a long heavy skirt. As much as she'd love to just use her powers to fly down to the next level, it would require causing a lot of damage to the buildings and the exhibits, not exactly the best way to improve human and mutant relations. So instead she moves as fast as she can and prays that they are not too late.

* * *

Hank pushes his way past people as politely as he can; profusely apologizing as he goes, hoping and praying that he's not too late. When he reaches the main floor, the place is packed with people trying to leave the building. He attempts to get through them, but there are just too many of them and despite the large skirts some of the woman are wearing, he just can't get out any faster.

Some eternity later, he's finally outside and desperately looking around for Amanda and James. There are too many people, there's too much noise, there's not enough light and as he desperately looks around, he hears a woman giggle carried to him on the wind. He's not sure why it catches his attention, but it does and he turns to search for the maker of that sound.

He easily spots them headed straight for him and he's caught off guard for a moment. A pleasant relaxed feeling starts to envelope him and he quickly takes several steps backwards, not even apologizing to the people he bumps into. They don't notice him as they seem totally intent on one another and uncertainty hits him for a minute.

She giggles again as James kisses her bare shoulder and the hand that's supposed to be supporting her around her waist travels up her torso until his finger tips are gently caressing the side of one of her breasts. Hank nearly growls as she gasps and giggles once more and the smell of her arousal hits him like a ton of bricks.

Again doubt grips him and he's not sure if he has the right to do this. Maybe this is what she wants; maybe he's mistaken about the other man being a mutant, but then he sees her eyes. They're vacant, like there's no one there, the intelligence completely gone and he knows deep down in his gut that this is wrong.

"**AMANDA!"** Hank barks loudly.

Several people are startled and gasp and jump at the sudden noise, including James and Amanda. James looks at him and scowls for a moment as Amanda suddenly staggers as if she's had too much to drink. Hank moves at a startling speed towards them as she shakes her head and blinks, trying to shake off the dizzy spell. Before Hank can reach them, she turns towards James, drops her shoes, places her hands flat on his chest and gives him a good hard shove causing him to lose his balance and fall flat on his ass.

"How dare you," she growls at the fallen man.

"Amanda, wait!" James calls, reaching out for her as she turns tail and runs back inside.

Hank starts to follow her, giving James only a brief glance as he pauses to pick up her shoes and sees the man's face contorted with rage at him. Hank smirks before continuing to give chase to the fleeing woman. Following her isn't too difficult since she cuts a fairly large wake through the exiting people with that dress on.

Once they're inside, she heads off to one side, blindly bumping into people as she continues her headlong flight. Just before he finally catches up with her she dashes through a door and he almost follows her until he sees the sign on it.

"Oh dear," he mumbles.

"Perhaps I should go talk to her," Storm suggests.

"Yes, perhaps it would be best," he agrees and she smiles at him before going into the lady's restroom.

Storm finds Amanda down on her knees, shaking uncontrollably and gasping for air. Storm moves around the fallen woman and sees her face is pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat and her eyes have a glassy look to them

"Are you alright?" Storm quietly asks.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Amanda gasps.

Amanda lurches to her feet and stumbles into the handicap stall, not even noticing when the door catches on her skirt and tears the material. Storm squeezes into the stall with her and holds back her hair as she retches into the toilet. Several minutes later, Amanda sits back gasping for air and crying. Storm grabs some toilet paper and hands it to her so that she can clean herself up a bit.

"Feel better?" Storm softly inquires.

"He was going to…," Amanda starts and then immediately leans over the toilet again to dry heave into it.

"Did you know he was a mutant before you came here?" Storm questions as she hands Amanda more toilet paper.

"Yes," Amanda moans as she leans her forehead against the metal handrail. "He told me just before we left the hotel. He said it wasn't a flashy power. What he failed to mention is that it's powerful. God, when I think what would have happened if the Ambassador hadn't shown up. I feel like such an idiot."

Amanda hugs herself and shivers as she quietly cries, not caring that her mascara is running down her face or that she's ruining a borrowed dress. When she's finally pulled herself together enough, Storm helps her over to the sink so she can wash her face. While she's doing that, Storm goes and picks up Amanda's bag and shawl off of the floor.

"How do you feel?" Storm asks.

"Like I've been hit by a Peterbilt," Amanda mutters, looking dead on her feet. "I guess I should call a cab now, but I'm afraid to go back out there. I know he's waiting for me."

"I'll go check for you," Storm offers.

"No, please don't," Amanda begs. "I have no idea how strong he is or what is range is. He could do to you what he was going to do to me."

"Forewarned, is forearmed," Storm replies as she heads for the door. "I'll be careful."

With that, Storm sweeps out the door leaving behind a terrified Amanda with nothing but the sound of her breathing and her racing heartbeat for company.


	17. Getting Out

**Author's Notes: **Thank you Ratdogtwo, dog youkai jane and Mythigal for your reviews. More fun with James coming right up.

* * *

Storm steps out of the bathroom to find her way partially blocked by Hank's bulk. Hate and anger radiate off of the large man in waves and she's taken aback by such emotions coming from her normally placid friend, but when she looks around him, she can see why he's so upset. Standing on the other side of the corridor is James looking as if he doesn't have a care in the world and a smirk on his lips. She quickly looks around and sees a few guards with their guns trained on James to keep him where he is.

"Really, Ambassador, why all the dramatics?" James asks pleasantly. "All I want to do is take Amanda back to the hotel."

"And then use your power to seduce her into your bed," Hank growls in response.

"Oh, please, she's a grown woman, I don't think she needs _you_ to protect her," James scoffs.

"Not from a normal man, she wouldn't," Hank snarls. "But you're not a normal man, are you?"

"Look who's talking," James snaps in response, his patience thinning.

Storm moves out from behind Hank and starts to circle around, giving the other mutant a wide birth. Suddenly, she becomes very relaxed again and she gets this overwhelming urge to go to James. She hears someone calling her name, but that person doesn't matter, all that matters is getting into James's arms.

Hank tries to follow her only to start to feel the effects of James's power and he quickly has to back up, a growl reverberating through his chest. He watches helplessly as Storm walks into the cad's arms and Hank wants nothing more than to rip the scoundrel limb from limb. The smug look on James's face isn't helping his mood either.

"I always did find it easier to charm the ladies than the gents," James admits as he wraps a possessive arm around Storm's shoulders. "Now here's the deal, Ambassador, a lady for a lady. Bring me Amanda and Ororo will be returned to you unharmed. Fail to bring me Amanda and well…one way or another, I'm going back to my hotel with a beautiful woman on my arm and I'm not really caring which one at this point."

Hank glares daggers at the other man; the guards look at each other nervously, unsure what to do. A distant sound catches Hank's attention, but he doesn't let on that he's heard it. Hank looks at Storm and she stares back with a smile on her face, her eyes almost glowing with the same devoted look a dog has for its owner.

"Fine," Hank growls. "Wait for us outside."

"Why outside?" James demands, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Because if you're out here, there's no way Amanda's going to come out," Hank tells him irritably. "And I refuse to go into the lady's room and drag her out kicking and screaming."

"Very well," James replies with a warning in his voice. "But don't try anything stupid or who knows what I might want to do with you precious girl."

With that, James and Storm leave, the guards are now completely confused and stand around staring at each other with their guns still in their hands. Hank takes a deep breath and lets it out, trying to release the tension in his muscles. It'll do no good to scare Amanda by being more beast than man and he quickly works on getting his temper under control.

"Thank you for your assistance, gentlemen," Hank tells the bewildered men. "Your weapons will no longer be needed."

The guards hesitantly put their guns back in their holsters and then slowly wander off, casting glances at the front door, Hank and each other as they head back toward their assigned areas. He makes sure the entire area is clear before partially opening the bathroom door an inch or two where the smell of cleaning products, chemical air freshener and the very faint smell of vomit mix with the scent of one very scared Amanda.

"Amanda?" he gently calls out.

"Is he gone?" she asks, her voice trembling slightly.

"The coast is clear," he assures her, wanting to kick himself for this and praying that this works.

A few moments later the door opens to reveal the woman and he's shocked by her transformation. Her makeup has been washed away, her eyes are red and puffy from crying and the front of her dress has a few suspicious stains on it. He had expected her to have a terrified look in her eyes and to be trembling in fear like some frightened animal, but instead she stands with her back straight, a calm air about her and a resigned sadness in her eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asks as he hands her back her shoes.

"I'll survive, I suppose," she answers as puts her evening bag's strap over her shoulder and then takes her shoes from him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replies before turning and putting a guiding hand on the small of her back. "Are you ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she responds as they head towards the front doors at a sedate pace.

As they step out of the doors, he can see a limo waiting at the curb and the back door opens as they come away from the building. James gets out with a very smug look on his face and then turns to help Storm out of the vehicle. Hank looks down at Amanda and expects to see the woman freaking out, but instead she's still calm though she is trembling. He's not sure if the shaking is due to fear or the cold autumn wind that's blowing; whipping her long hair around her making it look like it's alive.

"Amanda, I…uh…," he starts, not sure how to phrase what needs to be done.

"Ambassador, I am many things," she tells him, looking up at him with those sad eyes. "Deaf isn't one of them. I heard your conversation quite clearly through the door. Lawyers are a dime a dozen, but there's only one Weather Witch in the world and I can perfectly understand your desire to save your friend. Now if you'll excuse me, destiny awaits. I just hope God and my mother will understand."

With that, she starts to walk towards the limo, every nerve in her body telling her to run away as she continues her steady journey. About half way between Hank and James, she feels the calming effects of James's power and her shoulders start to relax. Once he sees that he has a hold on her, James turns his attention towards a still very upset Hank.

"As tempting as it is to take both of these beauties home with me, I am a man of my word," James calls out jovially as he sends Storm back towards the Ambassador.

Once that's done, he turns his attention back to the dark haired woman headed towards him with her chin held high. He can already feel the blood starting to rush towards his groin and thoughts of the rest of the night occupy his thoughts. He opens his arms to welcome Amanda too him when she's about ten feet away and that's with the bolt of lightening strikes the ground right in front of him.

He's blown back against the limo where he hits his head hard enough to knock him senseless for a minute while Amanda gets knocked back several steps. She steps on the hem of her dress and goes down on her butt, still dazed and stunned by being released from James's power and the lightening strike. Before she can get her wits about her, she's scooped up off of the ground and is quickly being carried away.

It takes her several moments to realize that Hank is carrying her in his arms again, but this time he's running as if his life depends on it. Not caring why or how she got there, she wraps her arms around his neck and buries her face into the high collar of his costume. An eternity later he stops, gently setting her on her feet and it takes her a while to convince her arm muscles to let go of his neck.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his hands on her upper arms to help keep her steady.

"Where is he?" she questions back.

"Back at the museum I imagine," he answers and he points back towards where they came from.

"How long where you running?" she inquires, shocked at the distance between them and the building.

"Not long," he replies as he fishes his keys out of his pocket. "Fortunately, this costume doesn't require shoes to go with it. I hate running in dress shoes. You haven't answered my question again. Are you alright?"

"I am now thank you," she answers with a weak smile. "Though, I seem to have lost my shoes again."

"We can go back for them if you like," he suggests, his eyebrows rising.

"No, thank you," she replies, a haunted look coming to her eyes. "I don't ever want to go near that man again. He was going to…"

She can't finish that thought as her stomach cramps up and a shiver runs up her spine, causing goose bumps to form on her arms and shoulders. Without another word, he shrugs out of his coat and places it around her shoulders. She smiles at him as she pulls it closer to her body and tries not to make it too obvious when she inhales the scent of him that hangs on the coat.

"Where's Miss Munroe?" she asks, looking around as a sudden wind makes her hair go flying around her head again.

"I'm right here," Storm assures her as she comes in for a landing next to them.

"What happened?" Amanda questions.

"When he released his hold on me, I zapped him," Storm tells her. "Or at least I nearly did. I did manage to knock him for a loop, but he's still conscious. The chauffer was calling an ambulance when I left though James was yelling at him."

"I imagine I'm going to have to call the President tomorrow and explain everything," he sighs. "I'm not sure there are any laws covering something like this."

He pushes a button on the remote on his key ring and it's not until she hears the chirp of a car alarm disarming that Amanda realizes that they're standing in the middle of a nearly deserted parking lot. He walks over to the large luxury car and opens the passenger side doors for the ladies. Amanda heads for the back seat and Storm tries to redirect her.

"You can have the front seat if you like," Storm offers.

"I'd never fit with this dress on," Amanda points out as she proceeds to stuff herself and the dress into the back seat.

"So, where are you staying?" he asks as he slides behind the steering wheel as Storm gets into the front passenger seat.

"The Madison," Amanda answers as she struggles to fasten her seatbelt. "I'm never going to go to a masquerade ball again for the rest of my life."

"I'm not inclined to want to argue with you on that point," he replies as he patiently waits for her to finally get her seat belt taken care of before starting the car.

Once she's securely in, he turns over the engine and carefully leaves the parking lot.

"I hope this doesn't cause any problems with your boss," he says as he pulls out onto a pretty empty street.

"I don't even want to think about Monday and facing Mr. Jones," Amanda groans as she leans her head back against the head rest. "All I want to think about is a hot shower and my bed."

"Her boss?" Storm asks softly.

"I'll explain later," he quietly answers before turning his attention back to his other passenger. "Did you get the letter I sent you?"

"What letter?" Amanda inquires, not bothering to open her eyes.

"I sent it the Monday after Serena's trial ended," he tells her.

"In that case it's probably still buried under the huge pile of letters I got that week," she sighs. "I still have something like three crates to go through. I'll find it someday."

"What about the birthday card I sent you?" he questions and she's silent for a few moments.

"I didn't get one," she answers.

"How about the flowers?" he inquires, feeling a bit disheartened.

"Now those I got," she replies, finally getting the energy up to lift her head and look at him. "They were beautiful. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he smiles, a bit proud of himself.

They pull up to the front of The Madison about then and one of the footmen opens the passenger doors. Amanda digs her way down to the belt buckle and frees herself from the car. By the time she struggles her feet around to the correct position to get out, Hank is standing there waiting with his hand out. She gladly takes it and lets him pull her out of the car.

"Thank you for driving me back to my hotel," Amanda says as he starts to escort her into the hotel. "I think I'll be ok from here."

"Call me old fashion," he grins as he links her arm through his. "I will see you to your room door."

"Normally, I'd object, but I'm not sure I have the energy to even get to the elevators by myself," she admits. "I'll gladly take the company."

"Good, since I wasn't taking 'no' for an answer," he chuckles and she tiredly smiles up at him.

They make their way to the elevators in silence, waiting patiently for the car to arrive. Once one arrives, they get in and are thankful that no one else is around since her skirt takes up most of the floor space. Once the doors open onto her floor, he catches a whiff of a familiar scent and his eyes narrow though he says nothing.

When she pulls her room key out of her purse, he takes it from her and opens the door. She starts to thank him, but he goes into her room and she stands there in shock. As the door starts to swing shut behind him, she hears a roar and another voice yelling. She quickly stops the door from closing and sees Hank and James fighting in her room.

Hank quickly finishes off the other man with an upper cut, flattening James out on the floor. Hank grabs the cad by the back of his collar and drags him out of her room, dumping him in the hall. She stares at all of this speechless, completely baffled by James being in her room.

"I was unaware that you were sharing a room with him," Hank states, trying to keep the disapproval out of his voice and pretty much failing.

"I'm not," she gasps, her cheeks coloring in indignation. "I have no idea how he got into my room."

"He probably charmed someone at the front desk to give him a spare key," he nearly growls.

"Lovely," she grumbles, staring down at the prone man. "What do we do with him now?"

"I've got a few ideas," he growls deep down in his throat.

"As much as I'd love to see him staked out on a fire ant hill covered in honey, he's still my boss's nephew," she reminds him.

"Then what do you suggest we do with him," he grumbles.

"Take him to his room and leave him there," she replies and he frowns at her. "I know, not the solution that either of us really wants, but it's for the best. I'd like to keep my job long enough to pay next month's rent."

"Very well," he mutters as he bends down, grabs James by an arm and then flings him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and she looks slightly horrified. "What? You didn't say I had to be gentle."

With a shake of her head, she searches James pockets until she comes up with two room keys. She leads Hank upstairs to the suit rooms where Hank dumps James rather unceremoniously on the bed, 'accidentally' knocking his head on the headboard in the process. She leaves the key to his room on the dresser and takes the spare key to her room with her. Hank follows her back to her room and this time lets her go in first.

"Thank you, Ambassador," she says after she carefully looks around her room. "I don't know what I would have done without your help."

"Hank, please," he insists.

"Ok, Hank," she smiles and he returns it.

"Now, when I leave, I want you to shut the door and bolt it so he can't get back inside," he instructs. "Storm and I'll pick you up in the morning. Until we do, don't open this door for anyone."

"Yes, sir," she replies, trying not to snicker at his over protective behavior and he narrows his eyes at her.

"May I have my coat back please," he requests and she hastily removes the item from her shoulders.

"Thank you for the loan," she says as she hands it back and his hands linger a little longer on hers than is strictly necessary. "Can I ask a favor of you?"

"Anything," he replies instantly and she turns her back on him.

"Would you mind unzipping the top few inches?" she asks as she points at her back. "I can't reach the top of the zipper."

"Oh…um…of course," he stammers and with a slightly shaking hand, he does as she asked, noticing how tight the dress is by the red marks on her body. "That looks painful."

"Uncomfortable more than anything and I can't wait to get out of it," she replies, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Oh, right," he hastily says as he quickly heads for the door, pausing before he leaves. "Good night, Amanda."

"Good night, Hank," she replies.

He quietly shuts the door behind him and then stands there until he hears her bolt the door so no one can get in. With a nod of satisfaction, he heads back to his car which he finds just where he left it and with Storm still sitting in the passenger seat. She looks at him with a finely arched eyebrow as he slides into the driver's seat.

"Get your goodnight kiss?" she teases as he starts the car.

"What!?" he gasps, nearly driving up onto the curb. "Good heavens, no. When the valet opened the car door I caught Jones's scent, I didn't want to take the chance that he was lying in wait for her."

"And was he?" she asks.

"Yes," he snarls as he heads the car in the direction of their hotel. "He had a key to her room and was waiting there for her."

"So what happened?" she questions.

"I got the drop on him," he replies smugly. "I was able to punch his lights out before he was able to use his power."

"What'd you do with him?" she inquires.

"As much as I would have staked him out in the middle of the desert for the vultures, I put him in his own room at her request," he grumbles in distaste. "It turns out that the cad is her boss's nephew."

"That's going to make for a very interesting Monday morning," she says.

"I know," he sadly mutters. "I wish there was something I could do to help, but I'm not sure what."

"You like her," she states, a smile playing on her lips.

"Of course I like her," he defends. "She's smart and witty and…"

"Pretty," she adds.

"Well, yes, there is that," he mumbles. "She's a nice lady. Why wouldn't I like her?"

"No, Hank, you don't understand," she replies smugly. "You _like_ her, as in the possible future Mrs. Hank McCoy."

"Oh my stars and garters," he gasps as he nearly plows into a light post. "Don't be absurd. A woman like that would never…"

"Oh, please," she snorts. "What did she do when you picked her up the first time?"

"She tried to cover herself with her shawl," he answers.

"And where was her other arm?" she asks and when he doesn't answer, she continues. "When you picked her up to get her away from Jones, what did she do?"

"She wrapped her arms around my neck," he replies softly, remembering the feeling of her holding onto him, something he could get used to. "However, I have a feeling Jack the Ripper could have been carrying her off and she would have held onto him."

"At any time tonight has she shied away from your touch?" she questions.

"Well, when she first fell into my arms she couldn't wait to get away from me," he says, the painful memory like a knife to the heart.

"That could have been she just realized that she had fallen on the UN Ambassador, not Hank McCoy," she points out. "Ask her out. The worst she can do is say 'no'."

"I suppose you're right," he sighs, trying to formulate ways to ask Amanda out. "I'll ask her tomorrow after we pick her up at her hotel."

"That sounds good," she agrees. "Oh, and one other thing, Hank."

"What's that?" he asks, still lost in thought.

"You just drove past our hotel."


	18. Dinner

**Author's Notes:** Thank you LadyOfThePlains, Takerslady, Ratdogtwo, Lady-Snape7, J. Tyler and dog youkai jane for your reviews. An image inducer is from the comics and it allows the less human looking mutants to look perfectly normal by projecting a hologram around them, though if someone were to touch Hank while it was on, they would still feel his fur.

* * *

"I'm sorry, sir, but Miss Simon checked out around 2:30 this morning," the lady behind the counter tells Hank as she puts an envelope with his name written on it on the counter. "She did leave this for you though."

"Thank you," he replies, thankful that at least she had the courage to talk to him unlike the man that had been there when he walked in.

He takes the offered item and walks away, opening the envelope as he goes. He pulls a sheet of paper with the hotel's stationary out of the envelope and starts to read the hastily jotted down note in barely legible handwriting.

_Dear Hank,_

_I'm sorry to leave like this without properly saying goodbye, but I can't stay here. Just the thought of being in the same building, Hell even in the same state as James is keeping me awake. Call me when you get home and we'll talk. I know you have my number._

_Thanks for your help,_

_Amanda_

With a sad smile, he puts the letter back in its envelope and heads out to the car and he spots Jones out of the corner of his eye coming out of an elevator, sporting a rather sizable bruise on his cheek. When he gets to the car he can see Storm sits in the front seat with her head against the headrest and her eyes closed behind her sunglasses. She finally cracks an eye open when he gets back into the car and then looks around, confusion on her face.

"Where's Amanda?" she asks as he starts the car and drives away from the hotel.

"She's already left," he answers as he hands her the letter.

"Can't say as I blame her," she states after she reads the short missive. "So what now?"

"Now, I take you home as originally planned before returning to my own place," he replies.

"What about you asking her out on a date?" she questions as she puts the letter away.

"She did request that I call her when I get home," he points out, a smile playing across his lips.

"So she did," she agrees, a smile of her own appearing. "What do you intend to do about Jones?"

"As much as I'd like to see him swing by his short hairs, I do have something planned that should cause him no end of problems," he responds with a devious smile.

"What have you got going on in that fuzzy, blue head of yours, Hank?" she asks, chuckling at his behavior.

"You'll see soon enough, my dear," he answers with a twinkle in his eye.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" she grills.

"No, I'm afraid not," he snickers.

"Fine," she huffs as she leans against the headrest again and closes her eyes. "Wake me when you want me to drive."

Figuring it's a ploy to get him to talk, he just smirks at her though she doesn't see. After a few minutes he can hear her slow, steady breathing and he knows she's asleep. He sneaks a Twinkie out of the glove box and continues to drive through the early morning light towards New York.

* * *

Several hours later, Hank trudges into his own apartment after more hours than he cares to think about in a car. All he wants to do now is eat his dinner and crawl into bed for some well earned rest. He doesn't even bother taking his shoes off as he tiredly walks into the kitchen and looks in the fridge for some dinner ideas.

With a sigh, he stares into the nearly empty appliance with remorse. With the past week being so hectic and his weekend shot with that miserable ball, he hasn't had time to go grocery shopping. He shuts the refrigerator's door and turns to his favorite cupboard to pull out a box of Twinkies. Not dinner, he knows, but it might give him the energy he needs to go down to the store and go shopping as people either avoid him or stare at him as if he is some traveling freak show.

With a sigh of disgust and disappointment, he tosses the empty box into the recycling bin. What to do now? He supposes he can go out to dinner, there's a little diner down the street that opened recently that he hasn't had a chance to try out yet. However, going out to dinner is so much nicer when you have company and an idea pops into his head.

This should satisfy Storm's needling of him when he left her at the school to call a certain lawyer and ask her out on a date. Plucking the pieces of paper up from their spot next to the phone and calls her home number only to get her answering machine. He leaves a brief message just to let her know that he's home and then calls her cell phone only to go directly to her voice mail.

He hangs up the phone and leans his forehead against one of the upper cupboards at a bit of a quandary. So what now? Then, from deep in the darkest recesses of his mind comes a most unwelcome voice.

_What were you thinking anyways? Why would a beautiful woman like that want to have anything to do with a big, furry beast like you? Get a clue, she's young, she's attractive and she can have any guy she wants. You don't stand a chance, just give it up._

"Shut up," he growls to himself and then sighs.

Whether or not she'd ever see him as anything more than a friend, it doesn't change his current situation. He still needs to eat dinner and there's no food in the fridge, but he doesn't want to deal with the problems of his obvious mutation. So he changes his watch to the one with the image inducer in it. Then with a sigh, he turns the inducer on, drags himself back downstairs, picks up the last copy of the Sunday New York Times from a machine and heads towards the little dinner down the street.

He's seated within moments of walking in and he sees that the place is tastefully done in a Country Home style and the menu reflects the décor. As he's perusing the dinner choices, the hostess passes his table with someone following behind and a familiar scent mixed with bleach, detergent and fabric softener reaches his nose causing his head to shoot up. He wildly looks around and sees that only a few tables over, Amanda is sitting down. The hostess places a menu in front of her and another one across the table from her.

"You're expecting someone else?" the hostess confirms.

"Yes, he should be here shortly," Amanda replies with a smile as she puts a satchel and her purse on the chair next to her.

"Ok, just let your server know if you need anything," the woman tells her.

"Ok, thanks," Amanda responds.

With that, the hostess bustles away and Hank tries not to openly stare at Amanda. She's wearing jeans and a turtle neck sweater with low heeled boots and her hair is pulled back into a long ponytail. He can see even from the distance he's sitting at that there are bags under her eyes and she's not wearing any makeup.

She glances up at him, gives him a brief smile as her cheeks redden and then grabs her satchel. He's confused that she didn't recognize him and then he looks down at his hands and remembers the image inducer is on. He contemplates turning the thing off and then asking her to join him for dinner, but then he remembers what she said about already having a dinning companion. She had said 'he' would be there shortly and Hank can feel his heart sink down into his shoes.

_Told you she wasn't interested in you,_ the nasty voice hisses. _She's got someone else. What could she possible see in you anyways?_

He sits there and just stares unseeingly at his menu, wondering if he should just go home and then he glances up at her again. She now has a pad of paper out and at first he thinks she's writing something down and then he notices that she's in fact drawing something. She peeks up at him and then quickly looks back down, and he can see her forehead turning red.

He chuckles that she's blushing so hard that her whole face is turning red. He wonders why she would be blushing so hard and then a little part of him comes to the conclusion that he's the subject of her picture. The evil voice scoffs at that small part of him that still thinks that there's a woman out there that would want him to touch her.

"Hey, girlfriend!" a man's voice calls very near him and Hank nearly jumps out of his fur.

"Dougie!" Amanda happily cries back as she quickly stands up to hug the very good looking, impeccably dressed young man.

"Uh-oh," Dougie says worriedly after they have been hugging for a good minute. "It's never a good sign when you hug me that long. What's wrong, sugar?"

"You won't believe the weekend I've had," she sighs, still not letting go.

"Well, let's order dinner and then you can tell me all about it," he tells her as he pries her arms off of him and makes her sit, taking the seat across the table from her.

As this Dougie person looks at his menu, the server arrives at Hank's table and he hastily orders something. He hopes he can get his food, eat it and get out before Amanda and her boyfriend can get all cuddly again or maybe he should just get it to go. He opens his newspaper and starts to read, but he can't get past the first two lines and if quizzed about it, he'd be hard pressed to even tell someone what the subject line says. He listens with half an ear as they order their dinners and he tries reading another article, one that might hold his interest.

"Ok, girlfriend, spill," Dougie demands and Hank's eyes narrow in anger at the demanding tone of voice the man is using. "What's got you in such a snit?"

"Remember how I told you that Mr. Jones said he'd get Steele off of my back if I went to the ball with his nephew?" she asks.

_Ah, so that's why she was there with the little scum ball,_ Hank thinks, not even caring that he's eavesdropping on them.

"Yeah, so?" Dougie responds.

"Well, I would have been better off if he had just let Steele fire me like he wanted too," she states. "First off, when James and I talked about where we would be staying down there he said that the hotel was booked so we were going to have to share his suite, but when I called them, they had plenty of rooms. When I called him on it, he just made up some bullshit story about they must have had a few last minute cancellations."

"Uh-oh, bad sign when they try to trick you into sharing a room with them," Dougie mutters.

"Then the dress I'm supposed to wear is like half a size too small," she continues. "Now I've never given Dolly Parton any competition in the chest department, but by the time I was done squeezing into that thing I could have sworn you could put an entire Thanksgiving dinner on my chest with room to spare. One good hiccup and I was positive that I'd come popping out of that damn thing."

Dougie snickers, but says nothing else and Hank looks over at her out of the corner of her eye and he has to admit that her bust was more impressive in the dress, but still…they aren't nonexistent.

_Oh, my stars and garters, what am I doing staring at her chest!?_ Hank thinks, tempted to start banging his head on the table.

"At any rate, James admits to me that he's a mutant right before we leave the hotel," she says.

"Uh-oh," Dougie mutters and she raises an eyebrow at him. "I know you don't have a problem with mutants, but they can't all be as wonderful as Ambassador McCoy."

Hank nearly falls out of his seat just as the server shows up with his dinner. He quickly starts to eat, to try and cover his shock.

"He told me that his power is to make people like him," she states. "That it wasn't flashy, just useful. He didn't bother to tell me that he has the power to brainwash people into doing whatever he wants. But of course I didn't find that out until much later. But I'm getting ahead of myself."

She pauses as the server arrives with their dinners and then starts getting her food ready to eat.

"You must really be upset if you're going for the comfort food," Dougie says, eyeing her cheeseburger and fries.

"Don't start with me, Douglas," she growls in warning as she stuffs a fry in her mouth. "So anyways, we get to the ball and there are Phantoms as far as the eye can see. At least half of the men there had to be dressed as the Phantom. So we start making the rounds and James is making with the smoozing. I turn to look the replica of the Hubble Space Telescope, I turn back and POOF he's gone. So I go off looking for this twit and of course the guy has just vanished, however, and this is where it gets a bit surreal, I do find Ambassador McCoy and his date. So I figure, hey, James is all pro-mutant, he'd probably sell his mother to meet McCoy, right? So I decide to follow the Ambassador around with plans on just 'happening' by when James finally puts in an appearance."

"So how long were you following the wonder fuzz ball?" Doug asks.

"Three hours and show a little respect," she snarls and Hank's heart lighten ups a bit at her defending him. "The man may be blue and furry but his still smarter than the two of us combined."

"Sorry," Doug says, startled by her reaction.

"I have to admit, I'm a bit jealous of Ororo Munroe," she continues. "She at least had a date that didn't ditch her and he danced with her. It looked like he was good at it too. The last time I had a good dance partner was at my sister's wedding and that was my dad."

"You're tangenting, sweetie," Doug warns her.

"Sorry," she replies. "So, I follow them around for three hours. There are hundreds of people there; I'm keeping pretty far back from them so I don't think I'm being too obvious. So they go off dancing again and I figure that James isn't going to bug them out there so I go wandering around looking for him again. By the time I get back to the dance floor, Munroe is just standing there in the middle of the empty dance floor and the Ambassador is nowhere to be seen. So I've now lost two men in one evening, but I figure a man that stands over six feet and is blue and furry shouldn't be too hard to find unlike my date. So I'm standing there on my tip toes trying to find him in the crowd and the sexiest voice in the world asks me if I'm looking for something. About scared the hell out of me and I end up losing my balance and falling right onto Ambassador McCoy."

"I've heard of throwing yourself at a man, but jeez, girl," Doug snickers.

"It gets worse," she warns. "I realize I've just literally fallen on the UN Ambassador, so I try to stand back up and end up twisting my ankle. As I'm falling, he grabs me, picks me up, walks pretty much the entire length of the Air and Space museum, carries me up a flight of stairs and then walks probably the rest of the museum length before putting me down all without so much as breathing hard."

"Your knight in shining blue fur," Doug snickers.

"And it's soft, as in two week old kitten soft," she tells him. "It also tickles. At any rate, he takes care my ankle…and then he drops a bomb on me."

"He's secretly in love with you and wants to take you away to some uncharted island to have his wild way with you," Doug teases and Hank frowns in confusion over his comment.

"As if," she snorts. "Remember all those phone calls I was getting from my cousin pretending to be McCoy?"

"Yeah," he answers.

"Well, those phone calls _weren't_ from Brian," she states and Doug sits there for a few moments piecing the clues together while Hank tries not to laugh.

"Oh my god, no," Doug gasps in horror and she nods. "It was really _him_?"

"Yes, and thank God the man has a sense of humor," she replies, her cheeks turning red again at the memory.

"I would have died of embarrassment," Doug says.

"I wanted too," she replies. "I was hoping God would just strike me dead or the earth would open up and swallow me whole, but no, I got to sit there and blush so hard that they could have used me as a lighthouse beacon."

"So now he's got you so you can't escape, embarrasses the hell out of you and then tells you he's madly in love with you," Doug teases and Hank chances a quick glance at their table.

"Will you stop?" she laughs. "He's not in love with me. I wouldn't be so lucky."

The sad wistfulness in her voice catches Hank completely by surprise and he stares at his half eaten dinner in shock. What in the world did she mean by that? And what kind of weird boyfriend does she have that talks about other men being in love with her?

"Ok, so what happens next?" Doug asks.

"Well, after he helps me take my mask off…," she starts.

"Wait, he has to help you take the mask off?" Doug questions.

"The hairdresser that did my hair wove the ribbons into my hair so someone else would have to help me get it off," she explains. "That was probably James's idea, but instead of him getting to play with my hair, it was McCoy."

"Uh-oh, we've gone from the Ambassador to McCoy," Doug sniggers. "We're getting friendly with a certain big, blue fur ball."

"Watch it, buster," she warns. "So he helps me get the mask off…"

"How many hairs did he pull out?" Doug interrupts again and she glares at him.

"None," she snarls. "He was incredibly gentle."

"Uh huh," Doug grunts with a knowing smirk on his face and she narrows her eyes at him. "Please continue."

"No sooner is the mask off than Munroe shows up on James's arm," she starts, the color starting to drain from her face. "I was so mad at him that I'd rather see him roast over a slow fire than hear his voice again. But when he got close to me, it was like nothing else mattered than to make him happy. We leave and he's making all of these suggestions about what we can do when we get back to his suite and I didn't have any problems with it. In fact, I thought they were all incredibly great ideas…"

She pauses and Hank looks over to see that she's as white as a sheet and her eyes have unshed tears in them. Doug reaches over and puts his hand on hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"If Hank hadn't shown up and distracted James, I would have gone back to that hotel and I would have…I would have…," she tries to continue as the first tears leave streaks down her face.

"Oh, honey," Doug says sadly.

He moves around the table to sit next to her and pulls her into his arms. She clings to the front of his shirt and quietly cries into his chest. He just rocks her and talks soothingly into her hair. After a few minutes, the tears dry and she sits back up looking a bit worse for wear. He sits there holding her hand as she tells the rest of the story in a monotone voice.

"After Hank left, I took the longest, hottest shower in history," she continues. "I washed and I washed and I washed until there wasn't any soap left and I still felt so dirty. It was like that bastard had stained my very soul. When I finally got out, I tried to go to sleep, but I just couldn't. I kept seeing James doing to me all those things he suggested and I woke up in a cold sweat and my heart pounding. I finally checked to see what time the first train for New York left Washington and found that there's a train that leaves at 3:15 in the morning. So I checked out, took a cab to the station and came home. I tried to get sleep on the train but only had limited success with that and when I got home I just crawled into bed. I haven't been able to get more than a few hours of sleep. Every time I close my eyes it's like James is waiting there for me. I'm not even safe in my own home from him."

"What are you going to do?" Doug finally asks.

"I don't know," she sighs, resting her head on his shoulder. "That son of a bitch may not have gotten me in his bed, but he's got me jumping at every shadow. I've spent the whole day trying to figure out what I'm going to do and I'm so tired right now, I could drop."

"That explains why you smell like bleach," Doug gently teases.

"So sue me," she huffs. "I have a problem to figure out, I clean. It helps me think. Besides, I had to do my laundry or I'd be going to work naked tomorrow."

"That'd definitely distract your boss from talking to you about his nephew," Doug chuckles.

"Oh, I doubt it," she grumbles as she sits up and stares at the remains of her dinner. "The man is as tenacious as a bull dog with a soup bone. That's what makes him a good lawyer."

"Come on, let's finish dinner and then I'll drive you home," Doug suggests and she sits back up as he retakes his own seat. "Then we'll make popcorn and stay up and watch movies all night."

"I'm not twenty-two any more," she points out. "Besides, I have to work in the morning. I'll sleep after they fire me."

"So why did you pick this restaurant?" Doug asks after a couple of minutes of silence.

"Oh, I was checking out an apartment near here," she answers after she swallows.

"Still planning on moving?" Doug questions.

"I might not have any choice now," she replies. "Mr. Jones has my address and all James has to do is come to the office and then it's over. I guess I better start looking for another job whether or not I get fired. God, I hate this. That stupid little prick is ruining my life and it's entirely my fault. I feel like I'm a shoe in for the moron of the year award."

"You're not a moron," Doug assures her. "How were you supposed to know the guy was a mind controlling mutant asshole? Besides, now you've finally gotten to meet Ambassador McCoy. How long have you wanted to meet him now?"

"Since he was Secretary of Mutant Affairs," she admits.

"What is it with you liking him anyways?" he inquires.

"Why are people still fascinated with Martin Luther King, Jr. even though he's been dead for over thirty years?" she asks. "Or Rosa Parks? Or Cesar Chavez? They all stood up and changed the world, not because it would make them money, but because it was the right thing to do. That's what Hank McCoy is doing right now."

"So, when did you go from calling him the Ambassador to Hank?" Doug asks, a smirk firmly planted on his lips.

"Since he asked me to start calling him that last night," she answers with a self righteous tone.

"You like him," Doug snickers and Hank frowns as he wonders what kind of boyfriend suggest his girlfriend likes someone else.

"Well, yeah, the man saved me from a fate worse than death," she points out.

"No, sweetie, you _like_ him as in you have the hots for his blue, furry bod," Doug teases and she stares at him with her jaw hanging wide open.

_And now here comes the truth_, Hank's nasty little voice hisses in his head as Amanda closes her mouth with an audible snap and sits up straight.

"Ambassador Hank McCoy has treated me with nothing but kindness and respect," she replies in a tone commands attention as she stares holes into her dinning companion. "And whether or not I have 'the hots for his blue, furry bod' is beside the point. The man deserves respect and by George, he will get it when I'm around."

"Ok, ok, put the lawyer away, sheesh," Doug grumbles. "But I bet you wouldn't say 'no' if he asked you out."

"Why in the world would he want to date me?" she asks. "Not only am I not a mutant, I'm opinionated, vocally so, and I refuse to sleep with a man just because I have the 'hots for his bod'. I want to make sure there's more to the relationship than pure physical attraction."

"Pure physical attraction isn't such a bad thing," Doug softly points out and one of her eyebrows arches towards her hair line. "I noticed you didn't bring up how smart you are this time."

"Next to Hank, I'm a country bumpkin," she points out. "But you know, it's odd. I've been around other men that had more than two brain cells to rub together and every last one of them have tried putting me down. But when I was with Hank, not once did he try to make me feel stupid or belittle me in any way."

"So if he did ask you out you'd say 'yes', wouldn't you?" he continues to badger her and it finally dawns on Hank that Doug isn't her boyfriend, but just a friend, a very gay friend.

"Would you mind stopping at the grocery store on the way home?" she suddenly asks. "I haven't had a chance to get to the store today."

"Wow, you really do have the hots for him," he laughs as she narrows her eyes at him. "You know I'm right or you wouldn't keep changing the subject."

"Fine, if he calls me and asks me for a date I'll say 'yes'. Happy?" she growls. "Not like it's going to happen though. He's a busy man. Now can we please finish dinner and get going. I really do need to get the shopping done."

"So what movie you do want to watch tonight?" he asks out of the blue.

"**While You Were Sleeping**," she replies after a few moments of thought.

"Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman," he muses. "Not bad and Bill's got a great ass."

"I thought you'd approve," she chuckles as she pushes her plate away. "Who's turn is it to pay?"

"Yours," he replies instantly and she eyes him suspiciously. "Last week you were out of town and I paid the week before that."

"Ok, I guess you're right," she mutters. "I'll go take care of the bill while you finish up and then we've got to scoot."

"Can I look?" he asks, pointing to her pad.

"Yeah, sure," she says as she gets up and heads off to the register.

Hank watches her walk by with just his eyes, noticing the gentle bounce of her breasts and the sway of her hips until he realizes what he's doing. Blushing furiously himself, he stares at his nearly empty plate and quickly goes to finish eating the now pretty cold food. When he looks up again, he sees Doug flipping through Amanda's drawings and occasionally at him. Hank quickly turns back to his unread newspaper, trying to pay attention to it this time he can't help but inhale deeply when she walks past him yet again.

"Why'd you draw this one?" Doug quietly asks when she returns.

"I needed something to distract me from some of the other drawings," she answers as she sits back down. "Besides, he has a nice face."

"Compare this picture to this one," Doug instructs as he flips through several pages.

"What about them?" she asks.

"I don't know about you," he replies, dropping his voice even more making Hank strain to hear. "But if you added a lot of blue fur to that guy sitting over there, he'd be a dead ringer for McCoy."


	19. A Return

**Author's Notes: **Thank you Mythigal, LadyOfThePlains, J. Tyler, Takerslady, dog youkai jane, Maraluch, Nomaias and Ratdogtwo (8 reviews for this chapter! WOO HOO!) for your reviews. They mean the world to me. In this chapter, things get…interesting.

* * *

Hank quickly glances at his watch, utters a mild expletive and then swiftly gathers his things before hurriedly going to pay his bill and leaving the diner. Once he steps out into the cold night air, he breathes a sigh of relief. That was way too close. If Amanda ever finds out that he was eavesdropping on her conversation she'd probably never speak to him again.

So, she'll say yes if…no _when_ he asks her out and suddenly there's a spring in his step as he starts to whistle as he heads home. It's not until he's snuggled into his bed and thinking about how to ask her out that he realizes he forgot to do the grocery shopping.

* * *

"Well, that was bizarre," Doug mutters as the door closes behind the man they had been talking about.

"Do you think he heard you?" Amanda asks as she closes her drawing pad and puts it back in its satchel.

"How could he?" he questions back. "I was barely whispering. Do you think it was McCoy?"

"Oh, please," she scoffs while they stand to go. "Last I heard, mutations can't be turned on and off, they can only be controlled and in some cases even that's not really possible. I'm sure if Hank could make the fur just disappear, he'd do it permanently. Now come on, I still need to get food."

"Ok, ok, I'm coming," he replies as he drapes an arm around her shoulders. "You going to make your famous Twinkie sundae?"

"You know it," she laughs as wraps an arm around his waist before she turns somber. "Thanks for listening."

"What are best friends for?" he asks as he gives her shoulders a squeeze. "You have those candy sprinkles this time don't you?"

"I don't remember," she answers as they step into the cold night air. "We can pick some up at the store. I think I'm out of the dark chocolate sauce anyways."

"Where we going to meet next week?" he questions while they head towards his car.

"I'm not sure I'm going to make it," she replies. "I'm going up to visit Serena next weekend. I'll try to make it back in time for dinner. Where do you want to meet?"

"Our usual place?" he inquires.

"Sounds good," she responds. "I'll call you if I can't make it."

"You better," he playfully warns. "Or I won't invite myself along the next time you go clothes shopping."

* * *

About an hour later, she lets them into her apartment where the smell of the cleaners she used still hangs in the air. He helps her put away the groceries before she pulls out a couple of bowls to make their sundaes and he goes to find the movie. Within minutes they're both happily watching the movie and eating enough sugar to send a five year old into orbit.

About half way through the movie, he glances over and sees that she's curled up and sound asleep on the other end of the couch. He goes to retrieve a pillow and blanket from her bedroom and finds a letter sitting on her nightstand. Curiosity gets the better of him and he sneaks a peak at the note.

_Dear Miss Simon,_

_Let me convey my most sincere congratulations to you for your successful defense of Miss Song. Lawyers such as yourself who would put their careers on the line to defend a known mutant are few and far in between. May your future endeavors be as successful as this case._

_Your most humble servant,_

_Ambassador Henry McCoy_

Doug chuckles as he puts the piece of paper back on her nightstand and heads back towards the family room. After making sure she's snugly tucked in, he turns off the TV and lights and then lets himself out using the spare key to lock the door behind him. He drops the keys off in her mailbox, before heading home with the hope that maybe his best friend his finally found someone to love.

* * *

She stands outside the door of the firm and sighs. The tension in her shoulders has been there since she got up and even thinking about food makes her already queasy stomach clench. It doesn't help that she fell off the couch when she woke up from a nightmare at one in the morning. She hasn't felt this nervous since the first time she went to court solo. She takes a deep steadying breath and opens the door and steps into the lobby where Betty is sitting reading the newspaper.

"Morning," Amanda tries to greet as pleasantly as she can.

"Morning," Betty replies without looking up. "I thought you went to the ball with Mr. Jones's nephew."

"I did," Amanda responds, carefully keeping her voice neutral.

"Then you've got some splaining to do, Lucy," Betty says in an absolutely horrible rendition of Ricky Ricardo as she holds up a center two page photo spread.

"Oh, dear lord," Amanda moans as she looks at the picture in the dead center of Hank McCoy carrying her away from the dance floor.

"There are more on the other pages," Betty tells her, trying not to smirk. "You care to share why the US Ambassador to the United Nations is carrying you around?"

"I twisted my ankle and he was helping me," Amanda tells her truthfully as she takes the section of the newspaper Betty is holding up. "Are you done with this?"

"Yeah, you can have it," Betty snickers. "So other than being swept off your feet by the Ambassador, how'd the ball go?"

"You don't want to know," Amanda answers.

"That bad?" Betty asks with an arched eyebrow.

"Let's just say you'll sleep a lot better at night never knowing the details," Amanda sighs as she flips the page to see more photos and cringes. "Is Mr. Jones in?"

"Yeah, and he didn't look happy," Betty warns her.

"Peachy," Amanda mutters. "I'll be in my office if anyone needs me."

With that, she walks off towards her office, stopping in the break room long enough to drop off her lunch, hoping that she'll be there to eat it. After arriving at her office and getting everything put away, she settles down in her desk chair and starts to boot up her computer. A shadow falls across her doorway causing her stomach to do a flip-flop and her heart starts to beat double time as Mr. Jones steps into her office, a frown on his face and a folded up section of newspaper in his hand.

* * *

"Good morning, Mary," Hank greets in a less then pleased tone.

"Good morning, Ambassador," Mary replies and gets a bit nervous at her boss's unhappy face. "Is something wrong?"

"Last week I gave you a card to mail," he says calmly. "What did you do with it?"

"I mailed it," she answers.

"I talked to the person who was supposed to receive that card and she says she didn't get it," he tells her.

"This was the card to Miss Simon, right?" she asks.

"It was," he confirms.

"I remember, you gave me the card, I dropped in the outgoing mail basket and then I went to go get your coffee," she tells him.

"Show me exactly what you did that day," he instructs.

"Yes, sir," she says as she stands up and leads him to the other side of the work space where the overflowing outgoing mail basket sits. "I put the card right here and then I went for your coffee."

"Was the basket as full then as it is now?" he asks

"I don't remember, but it's usually this way in the morning," she answers.

He picks up the basket to look under it and a couple pieces of mail slide off the top and land on the cabinet. When he moves the basket to get a better look, another piece slides off and falls between the wall and the cabinet. Hank hands the basket to Mary, grabs hold of the cabinet and easily moves the heavy item away from the wall where several pieces of mail fall out at his feet. He bends over and picks them up, easily finding Amanda's card among them.

"Mystery solved," he sighs as he pushes the cabinet back in place. "See to it that we get a bigger basket."

"Yes, sir," she replies as he relieves her of her burden and puts it back where it belongs.

"I will be rather busy this morning on the phone," he states as they head back towards his private office, taking Amanda's card with him. "Please hold my calls unless it's truly important."

"Yes, sir," she responds, feeling guilty about the card and heads towards the break room to get him his morning cup of coffee.

* * *

"Are you busy?" Mr. Jones asks in a tone of voice that says she better not be.

"No, please come in," Amanda invites as she logs into her computer and he shuts the door behind him.

"I was given the impression that we had a deal," he starts as he takes a seat. "You go to the ball with my nephew and I get Mr. Steele to back off. Yesterday I got a call from my brother who was rather displeased when his son came home with half of his face bruised and swollen and stating that Ambassador McCoy attacked him. According to my nephew, you abandoned him part way through the festivities and then hooked up with McCoy. When James tried to persuade you to return to him, McCoy attacked him, punching him in the face and then taking off with you for a ménage **à** trois with McCoy and his date. This morning I get an even bigger shock when I see these."

He nearly tears the newspaper as he opens it to reveal the pictures of Amanda and Hank.

"Now I did not get where I am today without realizing that there are two sides to every story," he continues as he sits back in his chair and glares at her. "So please, tell me your version of what happened."

She takes a deep breath, lets it out and then tells her side of the story. She leaves nothing out, including the fact that James is a mutant. When she's done, he says nothing for several minutes and while that is a bit nerve wracking, she's just glad she got through it without breaking down in tears.

"Had I been Mr. Steele, I would have said that you're a delusional female who's only looking for attention," he finally states with a sigh. "Unfortunately, I know my nephew and I know that as a child, he was a spoiled rotten brat. His parents let him get away with murder, almost literally once. Yet, at family get-togethers, it didn't matter how mad I was at him for something he did to my kids because he was just so darn likable. Now I know why."

"The bad seed," she mutters.

"A bit harsh, but accurate," he concedes. "The problem is what do we do now? If he decides to press charges against Ambassador McCoy, there's going to be Hell to pay."

"No offence to Ambassador McCoy, but I'm a bit more worried about me," she states. "Rapists are not known to take kindly to their target getting away. If he decides to come here, what is to stop him from getting my address from someone? Or even convincing me to go with him if he wants? The man is very dangerous, but I'm not sure what to do at this point."

"A restraining order is going to be your best bet for now," he tells her.

"A restraining order is only a piece of paper," she points out. "It can't physically stop him."

"True, but it's a start," he says.

"But what good will it do me?" she questions. "If he does violate a restraining order and we take him to court, he'll just walk up to the judge and convince him to toss out the case and then he'll be within striking range of me. I got the feeling that he has only a limited range on his powers, but once you're close enough, it's over."

"It's that or you change your name and move, leaving no forwarding address," he replies. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault James uses his powers for personal gain at the expense of others," she says.

"No, but I am the one who asked you to be his date," he reminds her.

"I didn't have to say yes," she points out. "I did it for personal gain and you did it because he's your nephew. We can lament the about who's to blame until the cows come home, but the fact of the matter is, that it's truly James's fault for using his powers irresponsibly."

"True, but we're still in a quandary of what to do," he responds, sitting for a while, lost in thought. "I can't think of anything right now except the restraining order. Do you want to go ahead with one?"

"Sure," she sighs. "He'll probably laugh when he gets it, but at least it's a start."

"Unless we can find a way to neutralize his powers, this is all we can do," he states as he stands up. "I'll get started on that restraining order. And don't worry about Mr. Steele, I'll have a talk with him."

"Why?" she asks. "It's not like I really kept up my end of the deal."

"You said you would go to the ball with James," he says as he stands with his hand on the knob to her office door. "It was never stipulated that you had to spend the entire evening in his company and it certainly wasn't part of the deal that you had to sleep with him, much less let him rape you. You've faced tougher odds, Amanda, and came out a winner even though you were standing on your own. You'll have us by your side this time. You will _not_ face this alone."

With that, he leaves her office and she just sits there, a stunned look on her face.

* * *

Somewhere in San Francisco, a distinguished looking gentleman is having his morning cup of tea while reading the newspaper. He turns a page and is confronted with the image of Ambassador Hank McCoy carrying that mutant loving lawyer that was in the news a few weeks back. He scowls at the paper, wondering if there is any way to work this to his advantage just as shadow separates itself from the wall.

"I certainly hope you have something for me, Shade," the man says in a cultured voice, not bothering to look up from his paper.

"Not on the project you assigned me, sir," Shade replies as she solidifies into a dark haired, dark skinned woman. "Though I believe I have a solid lead."

"You know how I dislike failure," he growls menacingly, frowning at her.

"Yes, sir," she says, cringing away from him. "I think I'm close."

"Is that all you have for me?" he demands, in a dangerously calm voice.

"There are rumors of another mutant who has no great love for Sapiens," she tells him and then points at the picture in the newspaper. "It seems he's also gotten on the bad side of McCoy and that lawyer lady."

"This interests me how?" he asks.

"He can control people to do what he wants them to do," she answers. "He was going to rape the lawyer until McCoy interfered."

"I like him already," he purrs. "Do you have a name for me?"

"James Jones," she says

"Where can I find him?" he inquires.

"Boston," she replies.

"Very well," he states, relaxing further into his seat. "I will assign someone to keeping an eye on him. I still want you to find her. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir, perfectly," she responds, bowing her head in submission.

"Good, now get back to work," he orders as he turns back to his paper.

"Yes, sir," she says obediently as she fades back into the shadows.

* * *

When Amanda finally gets home, she's dead tired and ready to drop. Between the nightmares featuring James, this morning's stress of wondering she'd still have a job and working a full day, she's completely drained. She stands, leaning against her closed door trying to get the energy up just to make it into the kitchen for dinner.

She drops her purse, shoes and briefcase off in the hall and then staggers into the kitchen. After retrieving something from the freezer and tossing it into the microwave, she finally notices that she has a message on her machine. She drags out a pen and a pad of paper before hitting the play button. She then listens to a message that warms her heart and just about gives her a heart attack at the same time.


	20. Tag, You're It

**Author's Notes:** Thank you darkwhiterose, Takerslady, dog youkai jane, Ratdogtwo and J. Tyler for your reviews.

* * *

_Hi Amanda, it's Hank. I was just calling to see if you made it home alright. I just arrived back myself. Please call me at 555-1234 so that I know you're alright. I'll speak to you soon. Bye._

**Sunday, 6:32 pm**

BEEP

Amanda hastily writes down Hank's number, underlining it several times. She can't believe she didn't check the answering machine until now. She wonders why he didn't call her on her cell and goes to check to see if she missed any calls on the little electronic leash. She fishes it out of her purse and sees that the battery has died.

"Great," she mutters as she heads back towards the kitchen.

She plugs the cell into the charger and then picks up the regular phone to call Hank back. She idly doodles flowers and hearts around his name and number, not really paying attention to what she's doing. After the forth ring, his answering machine picks up and she tries to ignore the little shivers that run up her spine just from listening to his recorded voice.

_Hi Hank, it's Amanda. I'm sorry I'm finally returning your call and I'm sorry I just left that way in Washington, but obviously I got back fine. If you got my note, you know why. If not, well, let's just say my nerves got the better of me and I just had to leave. I don't know how to thank you enough for what you did for me back at the ball. I never expected James to do what he did. Luckily, my boss understands and is going to help me keep him at bay. Call me if you need anything. I usually go to bed around 10:00. Bye._

**Monday, 7:12 pm**

BEEP

Hank wearily looks up at the clock and sees that it's 11:02 pm. With a groan he bangs his head a couple times against the cabinet in frustration. Stupid committee meetings kept him until after 10:00 this evening. With a sigh, he decides to call her in the morning and heads for bed.

_Hi Amanda, it's Hank. I'm glad to hear you arrived safely and that not only do you still have a job but your boss is willing to help you out with James. If you need any help on that front, please let me know. I am willing to do everything in my power to see that the cad gets what he deserves…I do have a request…I was wondering…if you would do me the honor of having dinner with me. Please call me when you can. Bye._

**Tuesday, 10: 41 am**

BEEP

Amanda all but hurts herself getting into her apartment that evening, nearly desperate to get to the phone. Why did Hank have to call her at work and leave that message on her voice mail when she didn't have his phone number with her? She quickly picks up the phone and dials his number and hopes she doesn't sound too desperate when she gets his machine again.

_Hi Hank, it's Amanda. Thanks for offering to help with James. So far he is behaving himself, but I don't expect that to last for too much longer. From what I understand, one side of his face is completely swollen and bruised from where you punched him. Man, would I love to see a picture of that…Sorry, that's just the vindictive side of me…About having dinner with you…I'd love to. Do you have a specific day and time in mind? I'll talk to you soon. Bye._

**Tuesday, 6:59 pm**

BEEP

Hank is overjoyed and horrified at the same time when he gets her message. He's thrilled that she's willing to go out, but now he has to find time in his busy schedule to take her out. It has to be nice, maybe with a dance floor and a live band. First things first, he has to check his calendar and then he has to call her back.

_Hi Amanda, it's Hank again. I did see James briefly when I stopped by your hotel on Sunday. I must say that the sight of the bruise on his face was most gratifying. As for going out, I was thinking Friday night if that's alright with you. I'll talk to you soon. Bye._

**Tuesday, 8:29 pm**

BEEP

Damn! He just had to call while she was taking a shower and of course, she didn't bother checking her messages before going to bed. This is starting to get very frustrating. She has this very strange need to just talk to him so she picks up the phone and makes the call, not in the least bit surprised to get his machine again.

_Hi Hank, it's Amanda. I'm sorry I missed your call last night. I was in the shower and forgot to check the machine when I got out. I'm afraid Friday night won't work since I'll be going up to the mansion that night and I'm planning on being there until Sunday. Maybe next week will work better. I'm afraid I'm meeting a client tonight, so I won't be home and I'll have my cell turned off. Let me know how next week looks for you and I'll hopefully talk to you soon. Bye._

**Wednesday, 5:43 pm**

BEEP

He bangs his head on one of the cabinets in his kitchen in a futile attempt to get the image of a wet, naked Amanda out of his head. It doesn't work and now he has a headache. Damn. With a sigh, he turns on his PDA and checks his calendar. Damn again. It doesn't look good.

_Hi Amanda, it's Hank. I'm afraid next week is completely out for me. How about the week after that? The week after that will be completely out since I'll be in Dunfee, Illinois for Thanksgiving. Hope you have fun at the mansion. Watch out for Kitty, she's quite the practical joker. Bye._

**Wednesday, 8:24 pm**

BEEP

She stares at her PDA, ready to pull her hair out and scream in frustration. It's starting to look like they'll never be able to have a date and she growls in frustration as she bangs her head against the wall. With a sigh, she listens to his message again and delights in the shivers his voice alone can give her.

"If that's what his recorded voice can do to me, maybe its best we don't go out," she muses. "I might jump him before we get to the main course."

Then she thinks about Thanksgiving coming up and a cold shiver races down her spine. She cringes at the thought of all of her family members being at her parent's house. The mere thought of being stuck in that house with more family members than she thinks should legally be allowed and all the women bugging her as to why she hasn't settled down yet.

"At least Mom can't invite any single men to Thanksgiving dinner," she mutters to herself. "Where the blazes is Dunfee, Illinois?"

_Hi Hank, it's Amanda. It depends what day you were looking at for the week after next. I'm leaving for Ashley, Virginia the Friday night before Thanksgiving. Where the devil is Dunfee, Illinois? I checked on the internet and I haven't been able to find anything. As for Kitty, I already have a good idea of what she's capable of, but thanks for the heads up. Hope to talk to you soon, instead of your machine. Bye._

**Thursday, 7:22 pm**

BEEP

With a sigh, he looks at the clock just to be sure and yes, it really is 12:06 am. If this gets any more frustrating, he's going to damage something. He's pretty sure he's going to stuff a dirty old sweat sock in the Russian ambassador's mouth if starts going off on how Russia doesn't have a mutant problem. He idly wonders what Colossus would have to say to the old windbag. He then heads to bed, determined to talk to Amanda at least once this week and _not_ to her machine.

* * *

Amanda works as fast as she can to finish up for the day so that she can finally leave. She came in extra early so that she could be out of the office in time to go to the car rental agency, get a car, go home, get changed, get her bag and then get the Hell out of Dodge. If she didn't leave soon, traffic will be a nightmare and she hates driving in traffic. It doesn't help her jangled nerves that the phone rings just as she's shutting down her computer. She contemplates ignoring it, but it might be important so she grabs the handset. 

"Amanda Simon," she states, trying to sound as pleasant and as professional as possible.

"Hello, Amanda," says a rich baritone voice that immediately sends a shiver up her spine. "It's Hank."

"Hank, hi," she greets. "Wait, this isn't really your answering machine that's calling is it?"

"I can assure you that it's really me," he laughs. "I was wondering if we could try and pick out a date for the week after next."

"I'd love to, but I really don't have time," she sadly tells him. "I need to get going if I'm going to make it to the mansion before midnight."

"Ah, that's right," he replies. "Your visit to Serena is this weekend."

"How about I call you Sunday night after I get home?" she suggests. "Would that work?"

"Yes, I think that would work fine," he responds. "I'll be waiting by the phone, so don't disappoint me."

"No pressure there," she chuckles.

"Until Sunday then," he says a smile in his voice.

"Right, until Sunday," she replies, now a bit reluctant to get off the phone. "Bye."

"Bye," he replies and slowly hangs up the phone.

She hears the click and then returns the handset to the cradle. With a reluctant sigh, she finishes getting ready to leave and then heads out. She bustles out of her office, locking it behind her, says goodbye to Sarah and finally makes it to the lobby.

"So, going to find out if Mr. Tight Jeans wears briefs or boxers this weekend?" Betty teases as Amanda walks past her desk.

"Oh, I already know that he goes commando," Amanda answers with a grin as she opens the outer door. "Have a good weekend."

"What do you mean you already know he goes commando!?" Betty demands as the door closes behind the lawyer and Amanda laughs as she heads for the elevators.

* * *

After what seems like days of driving, Amanda pulls up to the gate of Xavier's school. A nervous shiver runs down her spine and she has to steel her nerves before rolling down the window and pushing the call button. 

"Yeah?" a gruff voice comes through the speaker a few moments later.

"Good evening, Mr. Logan, it's Amanda Simon," she announces tiredly and then glances at the clock on the dashboard. "I guess I should say 'good morning'."

"Follow the drive around the back of the house and into the garage," he instructs as the gates begin to swing open. "I'll meet ya there."

Once the gates are completely open, she puts the car into gear and follows the gravel driveway around to the garage as instructed. She can't see the mansion properly, but it seems to loom like a giant shadow in the middle of a well manicured lawn. She finally makes it to the garage and finds Logan standing in the middle of a garage that she's fairly sure Jay Leno would be green with envy if he ever saw it. He points her to an empty space next to a large luxury car and she parks her little compact next to it.

"The whale and the guppy," she says as she looks at the two cars, side by side and he makes a non-committal grunt. "Thanks for waiting up for me."

"The kid was startin' to worry," he tells her as he turns and heads deeper into the garage.

"That's why I called," she replies, trying to ignore the heady smell of oil fumes.

"Ya really got lost?" he asks as he reaches a door that leads into the mansion, pushing a button next to it and the large garage door begins to shut.

"Twice," she answers while he leads her through the mostly dark corridors. "I don't do a lot of driving."

"No kiddin'," he snorts as he leads her up a flight of stairs and she stares at his feet.

"I hope she's not too upset that I came so late," she says quietly.

"Nah, she's just thrilled you're gonna be here all weekend," he tells her softly as they start down a hallway with doors lining both sides, most of them closed. "Hasn't shut up about it all week. Never thought I'd live to see the day someone could give Jubilee a run for her money."

"She's just excited," she explains just before letting out a huge yawn. "I'm glad I finally made it. I was starting to fade out there."

"This is your room," he states as he leads her into a room that's about half the size of her apartment. "Bathroom's through there."

"Thank you," she says as she turns and looks through the second door that he's pointing at.

"If ya need anythin', I'm a couple doors down the hall," he tells her as he starts to leave.

"Thanks again, Mr. Logan," she replies as she drops her bag on the bed.

"It's just Logan, darlin'," he says as he starts to shut the door. "Breakfast is served around seven until about nine."

"Ok and you can call me Amanda," she responds as she watches him go, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on his face.

"Whatever ya say, darlin'," he smirks before closing the door.

She chuckles as she shakes her head and takes another look around the room. A huge bed with a pair of nightstands on either side is against one wall, a wardrobe and dresser take over another wall and a desk is under the large windows overlooking the dark lawn. She sticks her head in the bathroom and gives a low appreciative whistle at the size of that room. She eyes the bathtub and wonders if she'll have time to enjoy that amenity before returning to the bedroom.

"I'm going to get lost in this thing," she mumbles, eyeing the monster bed that she's been given.

With a shake of her head, she opens her bag and starts to get ready for bed.

* * *

As Logan heads down the hall towards his room, the door to the room between his and Amanda's cracks open. 

"Did she make it alright?" a deep quiet voice asks.

"Yeah, she's fine," Logan softly answers. "A bit tired is all. Got lost a couple times getting' here."

"That's good," the voice says as the door starts to close. "Good night, Logan."

"Night," Logan responds before completing his journey back to his room.

* * *

Around 6:30 am Amanda is woken by the sounds of people moving around above her. She grumbles something about inconsiderate neighbors and snuggles further down into her pillow, pulling the covers over her head, trying to forget the nightmare she had earlier. A little after 7:00 am she's disturbed by people talking and laughing as they tromp down the stairs and she rolls over with a groan. 

It takes several minutes for the realization that she's someplace new to seep through her sleep fogged brain. She finally throws back the covers and lets out a huge yawn as she stretches. She stares at the ceiling contemplating if it's worth getting up in search of a cup of coffee before or after a shower.

Deciding it wouldn't be nice to scare her hosts with her pre-shower appearance; she drags herself out of bed and heads for the bathroom. Half an hour later, she emerges from her room and as she's closing her room door, she hears the sound of feet barreling towards her. She turns and upon seeing Serena charging down the hall towards her, she opens her arms.

"You made it," Serena says in a muffled voice as she squeezes Amanda's torso.

"I said I would," Amanda points out, gladly hugging the girl back. "And I always do my best to keep my word. How are you doing? How are your feet?"

"My feet are all better now, but I got to go to my classes with just slippers on for a few days," Serena answers as she steps back. "I'm good, but Kitty's still mad at me and it's not my fault. I didn't tell him."

"Didn't tell who what?" Amanda asks as Serena starts to head back the way she came, dragging Amanda along with her.

"I'll explain later," Serena whispers as they pass Logan's door and then raises her voice back to a normal level. "Come on, I want you to meet my friends."

"Are your friends in the same direction as coffee?" Amanda inquires while they descend the stairs.

"Yeah, they should be eating breakfast by now," Serena answers as they step into the foyer and she turns towards where the sound of a lot of people talking can be heard.

"Ok, just let me get a cup of coffee or I'll be sleeping through the introductions," Amanda warns in a good natured way.

"Oh and wait until you see who else is here," Serena excitedly says.

"Who?" Amanda questions, the girl's good mood becoming contagious.

"Perhaps I should tell her myself," a man's voice says, causing Amanda to spin around and gasp.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Damn but I love cliff hangers. Hehehe For those of you who don't know, Jay Leno is an avid classic car collector and literally has a warehouse sized garage to park them in. 


	21. Arrangements

**Author's Notes: **Thank you LadyOfThePlains, dog youkai jane, Mythigal, Ratdogtwo, Takerslady, LovelyLadyJem and Maraluch for your reviews. You can find Sarah Winchester on Wikipedia(dot)org. I'll be on vacation next week and I'm trying to get my other stories updated, so it may be a while before this story gets another update.

* * *

"Hank!" Amanda nearly yells in surprise.

"Good morning, Amanda," he greets, a big smile on his blue face.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

"I thought I'd come by for a visit seeing as I had the weekend off," he answers, the smirk firmly planted on his lips.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she questions, a bit hurt that he didn't say anything.

"I wanted to surprise you," he replies.

"Well it worked," she tells him, laughing. "You just about gave me a heart attack, but at least I didn't fall on you this time."

_Pity_, he thinks to himself before continuing. "Yes, but I believe the fact that you weren't standing on your tip toes while wearing high heels and a rather cumbersome dress helped you out there."

"Wait," Serena interrupts. "When did you two meet?"

"At the ball last weekend," Amanda answers.

"And you fell on him?" the teenager questions, a snicker on the verge of breaking through her lips.

"It wasn't completely her fault," Hank replies. "I did startle her after all."

"You about scared me out of a year's growth," Amanda teases with a smile. "And don't even get me started on that whole Brian thing."

"I didn't come here to cost you a year's growth or embarrass you further," Hank assures her. "I came to see if you're busy tonight."

"T-t-t-tonight?" Amanda stutters. "You want to go out tonight?"

"I don't see why not," he answers. "We're both here; we don't have any commitments to work."

"Well, um, you see…," she stammers.

"Wait a minute," Serena interrupts, coming to stand in between Amanda and Hank and staring up at the big blue mutant. "Are you asking her out on a date?"

"Yes, I am," he replies. "Again, I might add."

"What, did you turn him down the first time?" Serena asks, turning to Amanda.

"No, it's just this week has been really busy and we haven't manage to set a date yet," Amanda explains.

"Do you want to go out with him?" Serena questions.

"Of course I do," Amanda instantly answers.

"Then go out with him!" Serena exclaims.

"But I came here to see you and I didn't bring anything nice to wear," Amanda points out, nervously.

"So? The mall's not that far from here, we can go shopping," Serena happily states before swinging back towards Hank. "When and where?"

"6:30 in the foyer?" he suggests.

"Ok, she'll be there," Serena replies and then grabs Amanda's arm, dragging her towards the dining room. "Now come on, I want you to meet the others before they take off."

"See you later," Amanda shouts as she's dragged around a corner.

"Sounds like the furball's got a date," an amused gruff voice says from the shadows and Hank turns around to find Logan leaning against a wall.

"Zo it vould zeem," another voice from the ceiling and Hank doesn't even have to look up to know it's Kurt.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Hank smirks. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I smell waffles waiting."

With that, Hank turns on his heel and heads towards the cafeteria with a slight swagger in his step while whistling and the other two just chuckle.

* * *

A few hours later, Amanda finds herself sitting in Storm's office with Serena and Kitty glaring at each other.

"You told him," Kitty accuses with a growl.

"I did not," Serena nearly yells and Amanda can feel a headache forming.

"Alright you two," Amanda states rather forcefully. "Nothing is going to be accomplished by just you two going back and forth. We need to figure out how he found out and the easiest way to do that is to ask him."

"WHAT!?" both girls demand in horrified voices.

"Logan, would you please come in here?" Amanda calls out and the door opens a second later.

"Whatcha need, darlin'?" Logan asks as he steps into the room, shutting the door behind him and both teenagers turn beet red.

"How did you find out that Kitty had taken Mr. Wagner's underwear?" Amanda asks.

"You told me, darlin'," he answers a smirk on his lips and the girls turn accusing glares on the lawyer.

"When did I do that?" Amanda questions, staring at him, unblinking.

"When you were talkin' to the kid," he replies, jabbing a thumb in Serena's direction.

"Am I to understand you eavesdropped on our private conversation?" Amanda inquires.

"Wasn't eavesdroppin'," he smirks. "Just overheard is all."

"You know, Wolvie, that super hearing of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days," Kitty snarls at him and he just smirks at her.

"Well, now that the mystery of how Logan found out about Kitty and the underwear is solved, we now need to find out how to end the tormenting of Kitty," Amanda says, staring at Logan. "I don't suppose you're willing to cease and desist."

"Don't suppose I would," he chuckles evilly.

"Very well, then let's make a deal," Amanda suggests. "You stop tormenting Kitty about her exploits with Mr. Wagner's underwear and the girls won't tell anyone else that you don't _own_ any underwear."

"How the Hell did you…?" he growls, glaring at the girls as they start giggling.

"Well, Logan, do we have a deal?" Amanda calmly asks as it takes every ounce of self control not to giggle along with the girls.

"Fine," he snarls and then storms out of the office.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, Amanda snickers as the girls nearly fall out of their seats. When Serena and Kitty finally get to the point where they're somewhat under control, they wipe the tears from their eyes and just sit limply in their chairs.

"I never even thought about threatening him with that," Kitty admits after catching her breath.

"Just keep your end of the deal and tell no one outside of this room," Amanda reminds her. "If he does tease you again, then by all means, go ahead and tell Jubilee."

"Oh, god, if you tell Jubilee it'll be on the six o'clock news," Serena gasps as she collapses into a fit of giggles again and Kitty starts chuckling too.

"Well, since you both seem to be in a good mood now, I shall leave the two of you to work things out," Amanda says as she gets up and heads for the door. "Come and find me if you need any more help. Serena, I'll meet you out in the garden when you're done."

Before either one can object, Amanda is gone and the two teenagers suddenly go very quiet. Amanda stands outside of the office door for several moments waiting to see if she needs to go rushing back in there. When there's no yelling, screaming or the sounds of things breaking, she takes it as a good sign and turns to walk away, nearly running straight into Hank. She gives out a small yelp of surprise and he suppresses a smile though his blue eyes dance with barely contained laughter.

"Did everything turn alright?" he asks as she gets her heart out of her throat. "I just saw Logan go off with his feathers a bit ruffled."

"Oh, things have turned out fine," she answers with a knowing smirk. "As long as Logan keeps his end of the deal, everything will be just peachy. Kitty and Serena are now hopefully talking things out. Even if they don't become the best of friends again, at least they won't be at each other's throats."

"Storm will be very glad to hear that," he sighs with relief. "The two of them have been driving her to distraction from what I understand. So what's the deal that Logan has to keep?"

"I can't tell you," she tells him with a smile. "If I tell then Logan has the right to start tormenting Kitty again."

"So, where are you off to now?" he questions.

"I told Serena to meet me in the garden," she replies.

"Which one?" he inquires.

"There's more than one?" she asks in horror.

"Well, let's see," he says, starting to count them off on his fingers. "There's the rose garden, the vegetable garden, the science garden, the hedge maze, the regular garden and Ororo's garden."

"Sarah Winchester would have been proud of this place," she sighs.

"The mansion isn't quite that complex," he chuckles. "There are no stairs leading to nowhere, no doors that open into a drop from the second story or into walls and the number thirteen isn't prominent in the architecture."

"And its original architect probably wouldn't have been classified as certifiably insane," she points out with a smile.

"I prefer the term eccentric," he replies with a grin. "But you're right, Charles was a good man."

"I'm sure he was," she says quietly, not looking him in the eye and before he can ask her about her reaction, the office door opens.

"Ok, we're ready to go," Serena announces happily.

"Go?" Amanda asks in confusion.

"To the mall," Serena clarifies and then looks at Hank's perplexed face. "Or did the date get called off?"

"No, the date's still on," Amanda assures her before turning to Hank. "Right?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away," he answers with an intense look in his eyes.

"Ok, well, let me go get the others and then we'll get going," Serena states and starts to head towards the stairs with Kitty just behind her.

"We? Who's we?" Amanda asks, now completely confused.

"Well, you, me, Kitty, Rogue and Jubilee," Serena clarifies.

"Wait, I didn't bring a very big car," Amanda warns. "I don't think we can get everyone in."

"I would be more than willing to drive," Hank offers.

"**NO!**" Serena and Kitty shout in unison causing Amanda and Hank to jump in surprise.

"We're taking her shopping so she'll be ready for your date tonight," Serena explains. "You don't want to ruin the surprise do you?"

"Far be it for me to ruin my surprise," he chuckles.

"Good," Serena replies as she starts for the stairs again. "We'll be back in a minute."

"But what about my car?" Amanda reminds her.

"We'll take one of the school's cars," Kitty assures her as she start up the steps after Serena and the teenagers start laughing.

"Looks like they're getting along again," he observes as the giggles fade in the distance.

"Have I just been shanghaied?" Amanda asks, a bit dazed.

"It appears so," he answers, still looking in the direction that the girls went.

"In that case, I'd better go get my purse," she says and follows the girls up the stairs.

* * *

Several hours later, they return from the mall with the teenagers completely energized and Amanda almost looking like something the cat dragged in. The girls are all laughing and talking at the same time as they go flying into the mansion with their shopping bags barely slowing them down. Amanda staggers in behind them and finds Angel standing in the hall staring at the cackling group as they disappear upstairs.

"Might I ask you something?" she inquires of the winged mutant, coming to a stop near him.

"What?" he asks.

"How does Jubilee breathe?" she questions. "I don't think she's stopped talking long enough to draw breath. I don't understand why she doesn't pass out."

"We're beginning to think she breathes through her ears," he answers, just barely managing to keep a straight face.

"At this point, I could believe that," she replies and then continues on her journey back up to her room.

She gets there only barely managing to stay upright, the shopping bag handles and the hangers for her new outfit cutting into her fingers. She hangs the new outfit in the closet, removing the plastic garment bag so the material can breathe and then goes to put the rest of her purchases away. Once everything is taken care of, she kicks off her tennis shoes and then falls face first onto her bed. She's asleep within moments.

* * *

"Amanda!" Serena's voice cuts through the fog of sleep and Amanda moans. "Amanda, wake up or you're going to be late."

"Just five more minutes," Amanda mumbles as she pulls her pillow over her head.

"Oh, no you don't," Serena growls.

Before Amanda knows what hits her, the bed covers are thrown back, her pillow snatched away and she's grabbed by the ankles. The next thing she knows is that she's pulled out of bed and dumped rather unceremoniously onto the floor with a loud thud. Before she can voice any objections over her rough treatment, she's pulled to her feet and dragged into the bathroom.

"Now, you can get undressed and take a shower or we can just turn on the cold water and douse you with your clothes on," Kitty threatens.

"Ok, ok, I'll take a shower," Amanda mumbles, still trying to get her eyes to focus.

"Good, cause Storm really gets upset when we make a mess in the bathrooms," Jubilee starts and Amanda inwardly groans.

_Dear Lord, who let this girl start talking_? Amanda thinks to herself.

"I mean, it's not it's the end of the world or anything," Jubilee continues, starting to gain momentum. "It's just water and it's going to dry eventually. But noooo, can't leave any little mess in the bathroom because, hey, someone can slip and get hurt and that, like, would be bad because then they might break something unless it's Kitty who could just go right through the floor or Peter who'd just become all metal but then he'd break the floor and that'd be an even bigger mess to clean up."

Kitty and Serena grab Jubilee's arms and drag her out of the bathroom, closing the door behind them. Amanda sends a silent thank you up to the heavens and goes to turn on the water to drown out Jubilee still going on about Logan's healing abilities. Once she's in the shower and finds all of her regular showering items have been replaced with the ones that the girls insisted she buy, including a new razor.

When she finally climbs out of the shower, she finds the new undergarments waiting for her along with a big fluffy bathrobe. She dries off, gets dressed and then looks at herself in the still slightly foggy mirror. She's still trying to figure out how she let the girls talk her into buy one of those Wonder Bras.

"Talk about false advertising," she mutters as she looks at herself from the side.

"You about done in there," Serena yells through the door.

"Give me a minute," Amanda yells back.

She quickly towel dries her hair and then combs it out before donning the robe. She opens the door to find Serena, Kitty and Jubilee all waiting for her with hair dryer, curling irons and enough styling products to open their own salon. Before she can say anything, Amanda is dragged over to the desk chair, forced to sit down and undergo having her hair and makeup done.

When they're finally done, she gets dressed and then takes a good look at herself. She has to admit that the girls did a good job and when she steps out of the bathroom, three sly grins slide onto three faces.

"Hank's never going to know what's hit him," Kitty snickers.

"Speaking of whom, I better get going," Amanda says, pointing at the clock.

"Ok, but wait here until we make sure he's in position," Serena replies.

Before Amanda can even open her mouth, the girls are out the door, shutting it firmly behind them. Amanda just chuckles to herself as she collects her bag and coat and then goes to leave. She opens the door and is faced with a gleaming metallic wall of muscle and she actually has to crane her neck a bit to see Peter's face.

"You're not going to let me out are you?" she asks.

He just shakes his head 'no' and with a defeated sigh, she closes the door again.

* * *

"Ya keep that up, furball, an' you're gonna wear a hole in the rug," Logan teases from his spot off to the side.

Knowing that there isn't a diplomatic way to tell Logan to shove it; Hank just ignores him and continues to pace back and forth in the foyer waiting for Amanda to arrive. The girls had assured him that they would get her to him on time. Alright, granted, she is only a couple of minutes late, but his self doubt has kicked into high gear and it doesn't help that it seems the entire school has turned out to see him and Amanda off on their date. He pauses when he hears what can only be described as a herd of wild horses coming down the hall reaches his ears.

"What the Hell is that?" Logan nearly growls and a second later Serena, Jubilee and Kitty come around the corner and look down the stairs at Hank.

"Good, stay there, I'll be right back," Kitty instructs as she turns tail and runs back the way she came.

The other two come down the stairs at a rate that Hank is sure is going to break their necks and he worries that he'll spend his evening taking care of them instead of on his date. A few moments later, Colossus appears at the top of the stairs and makes his way down at a much more sedate pace. Just when Hank is sure all of his fur is going to fall out from just nerves, Amanda comes around the corner, looks at him and smiles.

"Oh my stars and garters," he gasps.


	22. The Date, pt 1

**Author's Notes:** Hey everyone! I survived Thanksgiving with the in-laws, including a turkey that was cooked by a vegetarian. For those of you, who are familiar with Hank's background, please accept my apologies now. I tried to stay as faithful as I could, but I did have to make some changes in order for it to work for this story. A great big thank you to my nine reviewers: J. Tyler, LovelyLadyJem, Mythigal, LadyOfThePlains, Takerslady, dog youkai jane, Ratdogtwo, AngerManagementIssues45, Like Pluto No Longer a Planet. Thanks to all of you guys, you're the greatest. The next chapter is written and all you need to do to see it is leave a review for this chapter.

* * *

As the students start cheering and applauding, Logan lets out a low appreciative whistle. 

"Holy…," Angel mutters under his breath.

"_Wie schön_!" Kurt mumbles and Storm arches an eyebrow at him.

"If you gentlemen are through ogling _my_ date," Hank smirks over his shoulder at them.

He turns his attention back towards Amanda and he wonders if he should pinch himself to make sure he's not dreaming. The little black dress she's wearing makes her eyes seem even greener than normal, the neck line is low enough to do slightly more than hint at her cleavage and the sandal strap heels makes her legs look long and elegant. His gaze travels up to her smiling face where he sees her hair is a pile of curls on top of her head with a few curling tendrils hanging down and her makeup, though a bit heavier than necessary, has been done to accentuate her eyes.

"You look stunning, my dear," he says as he steps towards the stairs, holding out his hand and her smile grows even wider.

"Thank you," she replies as she places her hand in his. "You're looking very handsome yourself."

"Thank you," he responds as he tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow and starts to escort her towards the door, never taking his eyes off of her. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, please," she answers and he can't seem to pull his gaze away from her even to watch where they're going.

A sudden flash causes them both to jump and they turn to see Jubilee standing in their way with a digital camera in her hands and a big grin on her face.

"I'll email you guys the picture," she tells them before she disappears into the throng of people staring at them.

"Well, before any more paparazzi make an appearance, we shall be going," Hank announces with a chuckle.

With that, he leads Amanda to the door and he helps her into her coat. Figuring the show is over, the students start heading towards the dinning room where their own supper awaits them. As Hank is shrugging into his own coat, Storm comes over whishing them a pleasant evening before going off to find her own dinner.

"Don't do anythin' I wouldn't do," Logan jokes from behind Hank.

"Well, so much for stimulating, intellectual conversation and civilized dancing," Hank teases back, only glancing over his shoulder at the other mutant.

Before Logan can think of a comeback, Hank opens the front door and whisks Amanda out into the cool night air. He holds the car door for her and she gladly slides onto the bench seat of the large vehicle. He quickly goes around to the driver's side and gets behind the wheel.

"I must have really been out of it last night," she admits as they get their seatbelts fastened.

"How so?" he asks as he starts the engine.

"I parked right next to your car and I didn't recognize it," she states as the car starts to roll down the driveway. "I even commented on the size difference to Logan."

"Well, it's not like you were expecting me to be here," he consoles her as they drive through the gate. "I take it that the compact that was parked next to me is yours."

"Yeah, the Matchbox car is mine," she replies.

"It looks like it's a rental," he states curiously.

"That's because it is," she confirms.

"You don't own your own car?" he asks.

"No, I can pretty much get anywhere I need using public transportation and cabs," she replies. "Besides, parking is a pain in the city."

"Why rent something so small?" he questions.

"I don't drive very often," she answers. "But when I do, I want something that's going to do as little damage as possible if I hit something."

"I would think you'd want something that would be big enough to protect you," he says.

"I did that one time and I about scared myself senseless," she responds. "I was so paranoid that I'd hit something or someone that I did everything extra slowly. The other drivers on the road that day probably thought I was mentally deficient."

He chuckles at that as they drive on through the night in silence for a few minutes.

"Might I ask you something?" he inquires.

"Sure," she tells him.

"Who's Jeff?" he asks.

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific," she replies. "I know several Jeffs."

"When I first tried calling you and before you thought I was Brian," he starts to explain. "You said something along the lines of 'Sorry, Jeff, you wanted her, you got her'."

"Oh dear Lord," she moans carefully dropping her face into her hands so as not to smear the makeup. "That brings the total up on how many times I've hung up on you to what now?"

"Six," he immediately answers and she lets out a groan. "Two Saturday morning, one Saturday evening, two on Sunday and then the one on your birthday. But you still haven't answered my question. Who's Jeff?"

"An ex-boyfriend," she says in a flat voice as she brings her head up to stare out the window.

"Ah, I take it it's safe to assume that things didn't end well," he states.

"That's putting it mildly," she snorts. "The night before you called, I caught him coming out of my now ex-roommate's bedroom with his pants barely pulled up."

"Is it safe to assume that the 'her' that you were referring too was your now ex-roommate?" he questions.

"Very safe," she confirms and she doesn't sound happy.

"Ok, next question," he announces, moving onto what he's pretty sure will be a happier subject. "Who's Doug?"

"He's the best girlfriend any girl could ever hope to have," she proudly states with a laugh.

"I take it's safe to assume that Doug is not interested in women as anything more than friends?" he inquires.

"Oh yeah, Doug's as queer as a three dollar bill," she assures him, snickering. "I take him clothes shopping with me because he's better at it than I am."

Before any more can be said about homosexual men and their abilities to out shop Amanda, they pull into a parking lot. They soon find a spot and he helps her out of the car. They quickly go inside and Hank talks to the hostess about the reservation he had made earlier in the day. Before she can truly admire the décor, they're whisked away to a table in a dark, quiet corner of the dinning room.

"Very nice," she says while he helps her out of her coat.

"Their food is quite good," he replies as he holds her chair for her and then pushes her towards the table. "They're also one of the more tolerant restaurants that I've found."

"It still amazes me that in this day and age that prejudice is still such a problem," she sighs as she picks up her menu.

"You, my dear, are a breath of fresh air," he muses, not even bothering to pick up his menu.

"Wannabe hippy parents remember?" she reminds him as she feels her face heat up and she hides behind her menu.

He chuckles and then finally opens his own menu. A few minutes later, the server arrives and takes their orders. As soon as she's gone, Amanda checks out the décor and is rather impressed with the 20's motif. In the center is a spacious dance floor with a live band quietly playing off to one side. The tables are set on several tiers that ring the room with their own table being on the highest tier in the back of the room. He watches her to see her reaction and when she turns her attention back to him, she sees him staring at her with that intense gaze of his. She can feel her face start to burn again and he reaches inside of his coat for something.

"Here," he says as he hands her an envelope that been addressed to her complete with a stamp and a return address. "I believe this is yours."

"Thank you," she says as she opens the envelope, takes out the card, reads it and laughs. "'PS – I'm not Brian'."

"I thought you might enjoy that," he chuckles.

"I did, thank you," she replies while she puts the card and envelope carefully away. "I found your letter, by the way. Thank you for that too."

"So tell me, who is Amanda Simon?" he requests.

"Now there's a loaded question," she teases. "Where exactly should I start?"

"From the beginning," he instructs.

"Well, in the beginning there was darkness," she starts with a suppressed smile.

"_Too_ far back," he laughs.

"I was born in New Haven, Connecticut," she begins again with a self satisfied smirk. "Dad was an executive at some big company and Mom was a math teacher. When I was eleven, Dad decided he was sick of the rat race and Mom decided that she didn't like the way the schools were teaching. So they quit their jobs, sold the house and we moved to a five acre plot of land several miles outside of Ashley, Virginia. The property had a big house and barn already there and we had goats and chickens and a big organic vegetable garden and a forest covering most of the property. The woods were perfect for exploring and playing when we weren't doing chores or homework. After getting my GED, I went to the local college to get the basic stuff out of the way and a couple years later I went to Harvard on a full scholarship. Passed the bar a few years ago and then went to work for Jones and Steele. Not very exciting, but there it is."

"Tell me about your sister," he prompts.

"Annie and I look exactly alike but we're completely the opposite," she tells him. "While she was playing with dolls, I was playing one on one basketball with my dad. While she was learning to bake cookies, I was learning how high I could climb trees. While she helped Mom clean the house, I was helping Dad to chop wood."

"Is she a career girl like you?" he asks.

"No, she only went to college to get her teaching credentials," she answers. "She's little Suzie Homemaker now. She married a guy from church when she was eighteen and nine months later to the day my nephew was born. My twin nieces were born a couple years later. She still lives in Virginia, but near Williamsburg where she grows her own vegetables and home schools her kids. That type of life would probably drive me up the wall in minutes, but she's happy as a bug in a rug, so I don't begrudge her the life she's chosen. So tell me, who's Henry 'Hank' McCoy?"

"Where shall I begin?" he inquires, a mischievous look on his face.

"From your birth would be good," she snickers.

"Kill joy," he playfully pouts and she just grins at him. "Well, I was born in Dunfee, Illinois and before you ask where the devil it is again, it's a tiny farming community out in the middle of nowhere. My father was employed at a local nuclear power plant and was once exposed to intense nuclear radiation which it is believed to have caused my mutation. I was born with a vast thirst for knowledge and unusually large hands and feet; in fact, my limbs were comparable to those of a gorilla and in school I was given the dubious nick name of Magilla Gorilla. I was into sports in high school, but I quickly learned that not only did I look different, but I was also faster and stronger than my class mates. Shortly after that, Charles Xavier found me and brought me to his school. After learning all I could there, I went onto college where I got my doctorate in sciences. I returned to Xavier's for a time to work on my research and teach. After that I became involved in politics, became the Secretary for Mutant Affairs for a time and I'm now the ambassador."

"You make it sound like your life has been nothing special, but it is" she says after a few moments of silence.

"So did you," he points out. "There's a lot to be said to having a normal life."

"I wouldn't exactly call my life normal," she points out. "But it wasn't a bad life either, a bit lonely at times, but not bad."

"At least you had your sister for company," he replies. "I was an only child."

"You went to school with other kids your age," she counters. "The only time Annie and I were around other kids was when we went to church on Sundays and holidays. I guess it was a good thing for Annie since that's where she met Mike."

"What about you?" he questions. "Did you enjoy the solitude?"

"Annie didn't mind it since she's so shy, but it about drove me crazy," she answers. "I wanted to get out, see the world and meet people. I haven't seen the world yet, but at least with my job I get to meet people. Granted they're not always the nicest people in the world, but for every pain in the neck I've met, there's always someone who reaffirms my faith in humanity."

"Hopefully I'm one of the later," he hints.

"As if you had any doubt?" she laughs before turning somber. "If you hadn't been there last weekend…"

He watches as her face pales and he can smell the fear coming off of her in waves. He reaches out and places his large hand over the one she has resting on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. She lays her other hand on top of his as if her hold on him is how she's holding onto her sanity. He puts his other hand on top of hers and then softly caresses the back of that hand.

"I will do everything in my power to keep you safe," he states a bit more forcefully then he meant to.

"Thank you," she whispers, startled by the power in his voice.

She looks down at their hands and then her gaze moves up to his face. Their eyes meet and neither one can look away, both of them lost there. Time doesn't have any meaning any more and neither one of them cares.

Reality comes crashing back down around them when the server arrives with their dinners. They have to let go of each other as the plates are set before them. After telling them to enjoy their meals, the server disappears again and they sit there in silence for a while.

She stares down at her food, trying to get her wildly beating heart under control while a more primal part of him wants to drag her off to a safe place and protect her from the world. She shakily picks up her utensils and starts to eat, trying to make sense of her confused feelings. He follows her lead, trying to keep himself under control and wondering what's wrong with him.

"You're a southpaw," he states suddenly, startling her out of her reverie.

"Oh, yeah," she nervously chuckles. "Another thing Annie and I don't have in common."

"Is everything alright?" he asks, his head tilting slightly to the side. "You've been awfully quiet."

"Yeah," she quickly replies and he raises an eyebrow at her. "I was just thinking is all."

"About what?" he inquires.

"You," she quietly answers, feeling her cheeks warming.

"Me?" he chuckles in surprise. "And what about me were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about how I've never met anyone quite like you before," she states.

"Well, if you do meet someone else like me, please let me know," he laughs. "I would love to meet someone as furry as me."

"I wasn't talking about your appearance," she tells him with a smile. "I don't think I've ever gone out with a man who didn't do or say something that wasn't insulting to me or my intelligence before."

"I feel sorry for them," he replies. "But I can't help but feel glad too."

"Why's that?" she asks.

"Because if they hadn't been such cads, you would have already been taken and you would have never have gone out with me," he answers staring at her intently and she immediately blushes.

"Can I ask you something?" she inquires.

"Anything," he replies and it's her turn to raise an eyebrow as a slightly evil smirk plays across her lips. "Within reason."

"Kill joy," she pouts. "How do you get your fur so soft? I'd do just about anything to get my hair to feel like that."

"I wouldn't say that," he says. "As I recall, your hair is quite soft."

"That was after a hair dresser put some extremely expensive conditioner in it," she points out.

"It looks very soft and touchable now," he counters as he reaches across the table and she catches his hand in her own.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," she warns. "The girls used so much hair styling product in my hair that this hairdo could probably survive a hurricane. I'm pretty sure I saw a can of shellac at one point while they were working on me. You haven't answered my question by the way."

"Conditioner," he answers. "Lots and lots of conditioner. Please don't ask me how long it takes me to dry off. Let's just say I've yet to have a hairdryer last more than six months."

"You should buy stock in a hair dryer and hair conditioner companies," she jokes.

"I do," he responds and she laughs.

At that moment the server returns and clears their plates, leaving dessert menus behind. The reading glasses come out and are perched on a blue nose and she can't help but smile which she tries to hide by looking down at her own menu. He looks over the top of his glasses at her and despite her looking down he can still see the corners of her mouth twitching.

"I never realized that a dessert menu could be so amusing," he teases and he watches with much amusement as she blushes right up to her hairline.

"Very," she replies without bothering to look up. Before he has a chance to press her for an answer, the server returns for their orders. After the woman leaves, Amanda turns her attention down to the dance floor and watches the small number of couples out there. He returns his glasses to his pocket and then follows her gaze down to the lower level.

"Do you dance?" he asks.

"I used to a long time ago," she answers. "The last time I had a decent dance partner was at my sister's wedding and that was my dad."

"Would you care to dance?" he inquires.

"I would love to," she replies.

* * *

_Wie schön _– German, how beautiful

GED – General Education Diploma

Southpaw – a left handed person


	23. The Date, pt 2

**Author's Notes:** Thank you Ratdogtwo, LovelyLadyJem, Takerslady, Mythigal, LadyOfThePlains for your reviews. Wrote this one to amuse, I hope it does.

* * *

He quickly stands, comes around the table, pulls her chair out for her and then escorts her down to the dance floor. He leads her through a simple foxtrot which she follows almost perfectly. While he would much prefer to be dancing barefooted like he was last week, he must admit that his dancing partner is an improvement. Not that Storm was a bad dancer and not that he doesn't care for her, but she's part of his past and a very large part of him hopes that he's currently holding his future in his arms. There's also the advantage that Amanda is several inches taller than the white haired mutant which means he's looking at her face, not the top of her head.

"So, how long has your sister been married?" he questions.

"Twelve years," she responds. "She got married on the thirtieth of October and since Halloween was always one of her favorite holidays, she decided that we had to have a costume party wedding."

"Oh my stars and garters," he chuckles.

"It gets worse," she warns and his eyebrows threaten to become residents on the top of his head. "Since I was her maid of honor, she got to pick my costume for me."

"Which was…?" he prompts after several moments of silence while her cheeks turn bright pink.

"Elvira," she mumbles and her face turns red.

He barely manages not to step on her as he stumbles while an image of her in a very low cut, skin tight dress, fishnet stockings and spiked heels flashes through his mind.

"Oh my stars and garters," he whispers as he tries to get his rampaging libido under control.

"But I did get my revenge though," she states proudly, dragging him back to the present.

"And how did you do that?" he asks.

"My foolish sister left _me_ in charge of the cake," she snickers.

"What did you do to the cake?" he questions worriedly.

"Nothing to leave it inedible," she assures him. "In fact, it was quite good. My sister the health nut got a Twinkie wedding cake."

"A WHAT!?" he laughs coming to a full stop in the middle of the dance floor causing several other dancers to cast him a curious glances, some of which are less than friendly. "You're not serious."

"Very," she replies smugly. "It took more boxes of Twinkies, fondant and icing than should probably be legally allowed, but in the end, the entire thing was a work of art."

"Why Twinkies?" he asks as they begin dancing again.

"Because I absolutely love Twinkies," she answers sincerely. "I think they are the best food in the entire world and I knew it would drive my sister crazy."

"Marry me," he says without thinking.

"WHAT!?" she laughs, missing a step and getting trod on in the process.

She lets out a small yelp and she draws even more glares from other couples. After checking to make sure that she's alright, he guides her back up to their table where their non-Twinkie desserts await them. He gets her comfortably seated before retaking his own chair.

"You weren't…serious…were you?" she hesitantly asks, very nervous as she picks up her fork.

"No, my apologies if I upset you," he answers while he picks up his own utensil.

"I was more startled than anything," she responds. "Why…?"

"It's very rare to find someone else who shares the same fondness for those wonderful little golden cakes as I do," he admits, feeling his cheeks warm up. "I'm afraid I spoke without thinking."

"Another Twinkie addict, huh?" she chuckles. "Glad to know that I'm not the only one in the world."

"Maybe we should join Twinkies Anonymous," he jokes and she laughs.

"I'd probably get kicked out for smuggling Twinkies into the meetings," she snickers and it's his turn to laugh.

"So was the cake your own creation?" he questions after they've both calmed down enough to talk sensibly.

"No," she replies unable to get the smile off of her face. "I talked the gal Annie said I should have make the cake into making it. It was three tiers of glorious Twinkie goodness and it was perfect. When Annie and Mike cut into the cake and pulled out that first slice, it took them a minute to figure it out. The look on Annie's face was classic and Mike almost hurt himself laughing."

"What did your parents think of all this?" he inquires.

"Dad just laughed, but poor Mom nearly had a seizure," she answers with an evil chuckle. "Mom was so busy helping Annie to make her princess and Mike's Prince charming costumes, she never knew about my costume and trust me when I tell you that one didn't take long to make at all. When I tried to get Mom involved with the cake she just handed me the money and told me to take care of it. When she saw what I had to wear down the aisle, she nearly had a heart attack, but then she saw the inside of the cake and I thought she was going to burst something."

"It's not nice to torment your mother," he reprimands, but she finds it hard to believe he's serious since she can see him fighting not to laugh.

"Don't worry, she's spent the past twelve years getting her revenge by driving me crazy," she responds. "When ever I talk to her it's always the same conversation. 'When are you going to settle down and get married?' 'When are you going to give me more grandchildren?'"

"She sounds like most mothers," he says thinking of his own family.

"Now that I'm thirty, it's gotten worse," she moans. "At the birthday party she held for Annie and me, there were an awful lot of single men there. Most of them I had met once or twice before, but there were several there that I had never laid eyes on before in my life and I wouldn't mind never seeing any of them ever again."

"I think that's pretty universal of all mothers wanting to see their children happily married and grandchildren are always a bonus," he muses.

"My mother is becoming rather psychotic about it, if you ask me," she mutters. "She wants grandchildren so bad that she's willing to drive me to the funny farm to get them."

"Didn't you say that your sister has children?" he asks, a bit confused.

"Yeah, but they're eleven and nine years old," she answers. "Mom wants babies to cuddle and I thing she's getting desperate. Of course it doesn't help when none of my relationships lasts for more than a few months."

"Why do you suppose that is?" he questions.

"Because I won't have sex with them," she bluntly tells him. "Well, at least one relationship failed because the guy was gay and in the closet until he dated me. Then there was the guy that was wanted by the police for embezzlement, he's currently behind bars. But for the most part it's because I refuse to hop into the sack with them after only a couple of dates."

"I'm glad to hear that," he tells her and she looks at him in surprise. "I would have lost a lot of respect for you if I learned that you were changing bed partners as often as you change the sheets."

"Thanks," she whispers.

They finish their desserts in silence and a short time later the server returns to clear their plates and refresh their coffees. She leaves the check on the table and then disappears. He picks it up and gives it a quick look over before dropping a credit card on it. She watches the dancers in silent contemplation as the server returns for payment goes away again and then comes back with the receipt to be signed and wishes them a good evening.

"Would you like to dance some more?" he questions as she puts down her empty cup. "I promise to try not stepping on you this time."

"I'd love to," she replies with a smile.

He quickly stands and then helps her from her seat before leading her back to the dance floor. He takes her into his arms and notices how much better she fits into them than Storm did. Once again he catches her scent beneath the smells of all the products that have been used on her and he can feel his skin tingling.

"What's Thanksgiving like in your family?" she asks, startling him back to reality.

"It used to be a fairly quiet, happy affair," he answers wistfully. "These days it's a bit more intense."

"Why's that?" she questions.

"Some members of my family are not happy with my obvious mutation or my political views and have no qualms about letting me know," he sadly states. "I like to think that my continued presence at these family functions is slowly breaking down their walls of prejudice."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up something that unpleasant," she apologizes, feeling horrible for doing so.

"Now that I've told you what I know awaits me in a couple weeks, please tell me what your Thanksgiving will be like," he gently insists.

"I expect the usual circus," she tells him. There will be my parents, my sister and her family, my grandparents from both sides, various aunts, uncles and cousins, all of whom are old enough to have families of their own, and little old me. All in all there will be about thirty-five of us and a good number of them will be staying with my parents. My sister will have the good sense not to come until Thanksgiving morning, but my grandparents and the aunts, uncles and cousins who'll be traveling more than a couple of hours will be staying there. I will be giving up my room to my mother's parents while I get a lovely spot on the living room floor with all of the kids. I will also have the dubious joy of enduring several days of my mother, grandmothers, aunts and female cousins asking me when I'm going to settle down, get married and start making babies. Are you seeing a theme here? Heaven help me if I mention or even hint that there is a man in my life since I will be bugged to death as to why I didn't bring him. After all, why wouldn't he want to meet my family?"

"Does that mean you won't mention me?" he inquires.

"That all depends on if anyone else saw those pictures of us in last Monday's paper," she groans.

"You do realize that there are more on the net, don't you?" he questions and she moans.

He is unable to stop himself from chuckling as he guides her across the floor.

"Do you have something against marriage and children?" he finally asks after getting himself under control.

"In theory, I have nothing against marriage," she responds. "Even though I was a tomboy, I still dreamed of wearing that big white dress and having my father escort me down the aisle. However, I have this slight problem that I refuse to compromise my values and sleep with a guy just so he'll stick around for more than a couple months, so I haven't been too lucky in the boyfriend department. Then there's the slight problem that I'm not a big fan of babies."

"Why don't you like babies?" he questions in surprise.

"They're ok from a distance, but up close it's another story," she answers. "I never really liked dolls when I was growing up and when my sister had my nephew my biological clock went into hiding. I was still living at home when Annie and Mike came for a visit for the weekend after Paul was born; I thought for sure my uterus sealed itself shut. He had colic so from about one to five every morning the kid screamed non-stop. When he wasn't crying, being fed or having his diaper changed, I was being regaled with the details of my sister's labor and delivery, the pros and cons of circumcision and whether breast feeding is better than bottle feeding. Don't even get me started on diaper rashes, episiotomies, epidurals, Pitocin and cracked nipples."

"I won't," he assures her, laughing. "Maybe that's part of the reason you haven't found someone, you don't want to have babies."

"I haven't found anyone who doesn't expect me to simply become an extension of himself," she responds. "I even dated a guy who told me that he expected me to give up my career so that I could stay home and raise babies of which there would be at least four of them, preferably boys."

"I take it that relationship didn't last much longer after that," he says.

"It lasted long enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear me tell him what a Neanderthal I thought he was and then I got up and left right in the middle of dinner," she tells him as he shakes his head and chuckles. "So, now that I've talked your ear off about my lack of love life, which for some strange reason hasn't sent you running away screaming into the night, what about you? Why isn't there a Mrs. Hank McCoy in your life?"

"I've only had a couple relationships that were of the romantic nature in my life," he confesses, getting lost for a moment in the green eyes watching him intently. "There were very few girls in high school who wanted to be associated with 'Magilla Gorilla', so my social life with the fairer sex was pretty much non-existent back then. In college there was a journalism major that I dated for a while, but she decided that her studies were being hindered by being in a relationship. I'm not sure which hurt more, the fact that she broke up with my answering machine or that a few weeks later I found out she had a new beau. After college I returned to Xavier's to continue my research. While there, I became involved with one of the other teachers.

"Ororo," she states.

"How did you know?" he asks and one of her eyebrows arches up at him. "Ah, right, the teenage grapevine, more reliable than CNN. Yes, 'Ro and I were involved for a time. Then I developed a serum that gave non-mutants mutant like abilities and enhanced the abilities of mutants, but an antidote was required to be taken in order for the effects not to become permanent. Something happened that I felt it necessary to take the serum and unfortunately, I wasn't able to take the antidote in time leaving me as you see me now.

"I don't know Ororo well enough to have a clue to how she would have responded, but she doesn't strike me as the shallow type that would have a change of heart just because you became rather hirsute," she tells him. "And if my grapevine is to be believed, she's been getting rather close to Kurt who one ups you in the unusual looks department with his tail."

"You are correct," he softly replies. "She didn't end the relationship, I did. I couldn't believe that such a beautiful woman would want me after my change became permanent. I truly felt that the only reason she stayed with me at first was because Charles was controlling her, making her believe that she still loved me. I realize now that I may have been a bit too hasty with my decision."

"Not that I wish Ororo any pain, but I'm glad that you did break up with her," she quietly says and he gives her a curious look. "If the two of you were still together, I wouldn't be here have a wonderful evening. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he softly replies.

Before he can say anything more, the music ends and people applaud. The band leader thanks everyone and wishes them a good night. Startled, Hank watches the band members get up and leave the stage. He checks his watch and is surprised by the time.

"It's nearly midnight," he states as he turns his gaze back to her. "I guess I should be getting you back."

"Why? Am I going to turn into a pumpkin?" she jokes.

"Of course not," he chuckles as he leads her back to the table. "But I believe you have to drive home tomorrow and I'm sure Serena will want a full detailed report on our date. A couple of things that are best done with a decent night's sleep."

She can offer no argument, so a few minutes later they're hurrying through the chilly night air through the parking lot to the car. They quickly get in and a short time later they're on their way back to the mansion. He glances over at her and sees her eyelids starting to droop and he gives a small smile.

By the time they get to the school, she's sound asleep and he parks in the garage right next to her little compact. When he opens her door, she doesn't move and he takes advantage of the situation to touch her hair. She wasn't lying; her hair is very stiff from all of the hair styling products put into it.

Once he has her free of her seatbelt, he gently lifts her into his arms. He bumps the car door shut with his hip before heading inside. She lets out a soft moan and one of her arms snakes around his neck. He has to stop for several moments as he gets his rampaging libido back under control again.

He finally gets upstairs and to her room where he thanks his lucky stars that the door isn't latched closed. Luckily it's too dark for him to get a good look at the mess made by her getting ready and he lays her down on the bed. He carefully removes her shoes and then gently covers her with a blanket.

He softly kisses her on the forehead and then leaves her room, quietly shutting the door behind him where he encounters one of the last people in the world he wants to see.


	24. The Morning After

**Author's Notes: **A big thank you to my eight reviewers: J. Tyler, LadyOfThePlains, Ratdogtwo, AngerManagementIssues45, maraluch, LovelyLeadyJem, dog youkai jane and Takerslady. I still have three other stories to work on, so it may be a little while before I update again. But don't worry, my muse obsessed with this story, so you probably won't have to wait long.

* * *

She wakes to the sound of her door clicking shut and voices out in the hallway. She's disoriented for several moments before she realizes where she is and then she fumbles with the light, blinking at the sudden brightness. She tries to recall her last memory and when she does, she moans with embarrassment. He must think that she thinks he's a bore since she fell asleep on the way back.

She takes stock of her situation and finds that except for her shoes, she's still fully dressed and nothing feels out of place. A quick glance at the clock shows that it's about half past twelve so she hasn't been out that long. With a tired groan, she throws off the blanket covering her and goes to take a shower. She refuses to permanently stain their sheets with all of the makeup that she's wearing, not to mention the fact that she can practically feel her pours clogging up. Besides, she's not interested in spending a month on laundry duty like Jubilee, especially for this place.

* * *

"Ya know, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you hit a homerun on the first date," a gruff voice chuckles as Hank closes Amanda's door.

"Good evening, Logan," Hank greets, refusing to dignify Logan's comment with a response.

"Only problem is, I don't smell any sex on you," Logan continues to tease from his spot leaning against the wall near his door while Hank heads for his own room. "In fact, I'm not sure you even made it to first base."

"Good night, Logan," Hank says as he closes his door.

He doesn't move away from the door until he hears Logan return to his own room. With a sigh that's part aggravation and part depression, he starts to get ready for bed. About midway through undressing he realizes he hears water running in Amanda's room. He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the conjoining wall for a few moments and then drops his face into his hands as he tries to get his libido under control while thoughts of a wet and naked Amanda in the room next door run rampant in his head.

_Mate_, a quiet voice whispers in his mind and nearly causes him to fall off of the bed.

He concentrates and tries to feel the tattle tell signs of a telepath touching his mind. The only telepaths he's known are both dead and there's no reason for an unknown telepathic mutant to contact him. He begins to wonder if one of the students might be a telepath and is playing a joke on him.

_Mate_, the voice hisses again and with a sinking feeling he realizes the voice doesn't come from without, but from within.

For whatever reason, his primal self, The Beast, is talking to him for the first time that he can recall. Usually it only growls, howls, hisses and roars in anger and frustration when Hank refuses to give in to his most basic urges, especially when it feels that something or someone needs to be pummeled. Of course, that's been pompous ambassadors of late, but that doesn't change the fact that The Beast is talking to him now.

_Mate_, it whines and Hank has a pretty good idea what it's going on about.

"If she is willing," he tells it. "But we must take it slow."

_Mate_, it growls not the least bit happy with his answer.

"If we rush this, we'll scare her away," he warns. "Then there will be no mate."

The Beast grumbles and hisses a few times but eventually settles down. Hank lets out a sigh of relief and goes to finish getting ready for bed. It's not until he turns off his light that he realizes that Amanda has finished her shower.

He tries to relax and get some rest, but the thought of her sleeping in who knows how little clothing, if she's wearing clothing at all, in the very next room makes it hard to let the tension go. It doesn't help that The Beast is doing the mental equivalent of pacing in its cage occasionally growling at him. He's well practiced at ignoring The Beast, so he pays no attention to it. He starts to meditate in order to convince his body to a calmer state when he hears Amanda's whimpers of fear.

* * *

_She's back at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum standing in the middle of the empty dance floor wearing that horrible dress again. She tries to run but it's like the material of the dress is made of lead now. It's so heavy that she can't even move a step and there's no place to hide even if she could. She knows that _**He**_ is coming and there's nothing she can do to stop it. There's no way to run and there's no way to fight. She's paralyzed with fear, her heart pounding against her ribs and all she can do is whimper like a terrified animal._

* * *

Hank is up and out of his bed in a heartbeat. He flies out of his room and into Amanda's at a speed that defies logic. He bursts through the door, not bothering to knock first and quickly looks around for an intruder. He flares his nostrils and takes a deep breath but only the smells of Amanda, and faintly Serena, Kitty and Jubilee are present.

He all but breaks the lamp turning it on and finds that she's alone in her bed. She's asleep but her eyes are squeezed shut, there are beads of sweat on her brow and upper lip and the bed clothes have twisted around her body so that she can barely move. She lets out another whimper and he takes another deep breath to calm his nerves as The Beast howls to be released.

"What's goin' on?" Logan demands as he charges into the room, claws already out.

"Calm yourself, boy, she's just having a nightmare," Hank assures Logan as he sits on the edge of the bed and gently shakes her. "Amanda, wake up. You're having a nightmare. Wake up."

With a sudden gasp for air she sits up as if she's been shocked, her eyes wide with terror. She's breathing heavily as she looks wildly around the room, her body visible trembling. She lets out a gasping sob and he pulls her towards himself. She latches onto him as if her life depends on it and starts crying into his fur. He looks over towards the door and sees it quietly closing.

He spends the next several minutes rocking her, stroking her shower dampened hair and talking soothingly to her. The Beast surprises Hank again as it whimpers in sympathy to her unhappiness. Ignoring The Beast for the moment, he concentrates on calming her down. Eventually the tears dry up, the trembling stops and she just sits there with her arms still firmly wrapped around his middle.

"Amanda?" he quietly calls after several minute of silence.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," she whispers into his chest.

"I wasn't asleep," he assures her as he continues to hold her close.

"I got you wet," she says unhappily.

"That's alright, I needed a bath," he tells her and he gets the desired result as she weakly chuckles. "Are you alright?"

"I am now," she answers as her grip begins to loosen. "Thank you for waking me up."

"I told you I'd keep you safe," he reminds her and he resists the urge to nuzzle her hair.

"I didn't realize that extended into my dreams," she replies as she finally sits back and looks at him with red rimmed eyes.

"Whenever and wherever you need me, I'll be there," he states as he gently brushes a few strands of hair out of her face. "Just think of me as your knight in shining blue fur."

She looks at him funny for a moment before giving him a small smile. He smiles back as he pulls the sheets and blankets loose from her body, thanking the stars above that she wore pajamas that keep her warm and fully covered. He doesn't care to think how The Beast would be acting if she wore something revealing. As it is, it's practically purring at the sight of her without a bra on and those round globes of flesh jiggling with her every move. He stands and then he tucks her back into bed once she's lain down again.

"Would you like to talk about it?" he inquires.

"No, thank you," she replies with a shudder.

"Would you like me to stay until you've fallen asleep again?" he asks, reluctant to leave.

"No, I should be fine now, thank you," she answers as she squirms around until she's comfortable.

"Than I shall let you get back to sleep," he tells her while he opens the door.

"Ok, thanks," she yawns as her eyes drift close.

"Good night," he says as he turns off the light.

"Night," she mumbles, already starting to drift off.

He softly closes the door behind him and returns to his own room, absently touching the wet spot of fur on his chest. He looks down at it and he can see his legs. He thanks his lucky stars again for having the forethought to have put on a pair of sleeping pants for a change instead of sleeping in his boxers like he normally does.

_Mate_, The Beast demands, very unhappy about leaving her.

"Slowly, Beast," he reminds it. "Too fast and we'll scare her away."

There's some grumbling, but other than that, The Beast stays silent. Grateful for that, Hank crawls back into his own bed. He's surprised by how much more relaxed he is this time and within a few minutes, he's sound asleep.

* * *

_She's standing in the middle of the dance floor at the Space and Air Museum again, still wearing that dress. She looks over her shoulder and sees James on the edge of the dance floor with a smug look on his face as he starts to head for her. Before he can get more than a few steps and she can start to panic, Hank appears behind James, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. Hank tosses the slime ball aside as if he was nothing more than a rag doll._

_She barely notices as James hits a wall and shatters into a million pieces as if he's made of glass. Her focus is completely on Hank and the fact that he's only wearing drawstring pants typically used for sleeping in, though the fact that his fur seems to have taken on a rather surreal glow to it hasn't escaped her notice. He steps up behind her and reaches for the zipper on the back of the dress._

_He unzips her, slowly and sensually causing a shiver to run through her entire body and she lets out a moan. As soon as he has the dress completely open, it falls away and disappears into nothingness and she's now standing there in the little black dress that she had worn on their date. She turns to face him and is only vaguely aware that they're no longer at the Air and Space Museum, but back at the restaurant._

_He pulls her into his arms and they dance to music that comes from nowhere and everywhere at once. Unlike when they danced earlier and he kept a proper amount of distance between their bodies, this time he pulls her flush to him. With a sigh of contentment, she rests her head against the soft fur on his chest, reveling in the warmth and his musky scent. _

_After dancing something shy of forever, he pulls away and she looks up into those beautiful blue eyes, completely mesmerized by them. They stand there staring at each other and he brings a hand up to gently cup her face as he leans over and rubs the tip of his nose against hers. Her breath catches in her throat while her heart hammers against her ribs and she can feel a fire starting to burn between her legs._

"_Mate," he whispers just before he tilts her head back a little and brings his face even closer to hers…_

**BANG!!! BANG!!! BANG!!! BANG!!!**

"_AMANDA, WAKE UP_!!" Serena yells through the door.

"SWEET MARY, JOSEPH AND JESUS!" Amanda shouts as she sits bolt upright in bed, sure that her heart is about to burst out of her chest.

"That woke her up," Kitty announces and Amanda turns to see the top half of the teenager leaning through the door.

"Do you mind?" Amanda asks irritably and Kitty just grins as she disappears back through the door.

"Come on, Amanda, open the door," Serena whines as only a teenager can.

Grumbling, Amanda stumbles out of bed and opens the door to face four girls with eager faces. They're too bright eyed and bushy tailed for this hour of the morning as Amanda notices that the sun is barely over the horizon. She glances at the clock and then glares at the girls.

"Why, in the name of all that is holy, are you up at this hour?" Amanda growls.

"Oh, come on, it's already past seven," Jubilee replies, bouncing on the balls of her feet and snapping her gum. "Be glad that we waited this long. Serena's been up since like before six and we're all been like dying to know how your date went with Dr. McCoy and like what you did and where you went and everything like that."

"No one in their right mind is up at this hour on a Sunday," Amanda states flatly, trying desperately not to snap at the girls.

"Oh, come on, Amanda, we're dying to know how your date went last night," Serena begs. "Please."

Amanda makes a sound that's somewhere between a growl and a groan before turning around and heading for the bathroom, grabbing some clothes out of her bag on the way. She leaves the bedroom door open behind her and then locks herself in the bathroom as the girls hesitantly drift into the room, not exactly sure what to do with themselves. A few minutes later, Amanda exits the bathroom dressed, her hair brushed and pulled back into a long braid and her face washed.

"So?" Serena demands.

"Coffee, now," Amanda orders. "Only after I've had my coffee will I talk."

Without another word, Kitty and Jubilee both grab one of Amanda's arms and start pulling as Serena gets behind Amanda to push while Rogue leads the way down to the dining room. With a resigned sigh, Amanda allows herself to be dragged/pushed down the hall towards that blessed cup of java. As they make their way down the stairs, Amanda tries not to think about the pleasant dream they had interrupted.

* * *

Hank is jarred from the most delightful dream that he's had in a long time by the sound of loud banging and yelling. The sound of young female voices coming from the next room is all needs to know that Amanda isn't sleeping any more either. A moment later he hears Amanda's less than pleased voice and he knows there's no point in trying to get back to sleep.

He briefly thinks about the dream of him and Amanda dancing on a beach and he groans. He was on the verge of finding out if she was wearing a bra with that little black dress from last night when the banging from next door jolted him awake. He goes to get up and realizes that a rather embarrassing problem has arisen.

The combination of normal early morning blood flow and a rather stimulating dream has caused a part of his anatomy to pretend that it's a tent pole. He waits for the blood to return to where it should be, but images of her in that dress keep flashing through his mind and his body seems to have developed a mind of its own. With a disgruntled growl, he climbs out of bed and heads for the shower in hopes of finding some relief.

* * *

It takes him over an hour to make himself presentable enough to be publicly seen and by the time he gets down to the dinning room, Amanda and the girls are long gone. With a resigned sigh he gets his breakfast and sits down to eat, casually people watching the students. He contemplates Storm's offer again, but the hope that he might be able to do some good in the world by staying where he is is still strong enough to make him hesitate.

He looks out the window and realizes he has another reason to stay in New York City. He sees the girls giving Amanda a tour of the gardens despite the fact that it's so cold enough outside that they have to bundle up and he can see their steamy breaths in the air. The only part of her that's not covered is her face and the cold has colored her cheeks and nose bright pink which he thinks is absolutely stunning on her.

As if she can feel him staring at her, she turns and sees him watching. She flashes him a smile as she waves and he grins and waves back. Her action draws the attention of the girls and Kitty says something to make the other girls laugh and for Amanda to roll her eyes and shake her head. A second later, the girls drag her away and he stretches his neck into an odd angle to try and keep them in sight for as long as possible.

"I was going to ask if you'd thought about my offer, but I have a good guess what the answer will be," Storm says and he nearly jumps out of his fur.

"Oh, good morning, 'Ro," he greets with an embarrassed smile. "I'm still thinking about it."

"I bet you are," she smirks before walking off.

_Mate_, The Beast whines. _Mate! Mate! Mate! Mate! Mate!_

With a quiet growl, Hank closes his eyes and silently tells The Beast to shut up. He opens his eyes again and stares at his half finished breakfast wondering if things are progressing too fast. She fascinates him, he wants to know everything about her and at the same time he wants to do things with her that are causing him to blush and a certain part of his anatomy to wake up again.

"Didn't think breakfast was that excitin'," a familiar voice says right behind him.

Great, just what he needs right now.

"Good morning, Logan," Hank greets, not bothering to turn around as his blood returns to where it's supposed to be. "Sleep well?"

"Did until the teeny bopper brigade came and got your girlfriend," Logan grumbles, plopping down in the seat across from Hank's uninvited.

"Yes, they were quite loud weren't they?" Hank commiserates as he takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee.

"So, know ya didn't get any, how far did ya get?" Logan asks with a smirk.

"That really isn't any of your business," Hank tells him flatly.

_Mine_, The Beast growls and Hank doesn't know if he should be worried that its vocabulary just doubled.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some packing to do," Hank states as he gets up and clears his dishes, leaving a smirking Logan behind.

* * *

A couple of hours later Hank finds himself in the library looking out the window onto the frost deadened lawn. However, it's not the scenery that got his attention, but who's out there that has him mesmerized. Serena, Kitty, Jubilee, Rogue and Amanda are out there playing with a Frisbee and he has to wonder how Amanda talked a bunch of teenage girls into that. He watches the woman intently as she runs, jumps and twists and he wonders what type of exercise program she's using.

"Enjoying the view?" Storm asks quietly.

"It's very pleasant," Hank answers.

"How'd your date go?" she questions as she moves up beside him.

"I think it went quite well," he replies.

"You going to take her out again?" she inquires.

"I don't know," he responds. "I didn't have a chance to ask her last night and I haven't been able to get near her at all today. But that's alright; she did come here to see Serena after all, not me. How is Serena doing, by the way?"

"The antidepressants are working really well for her," she tells him. "She's adjusting a lot better to this life now than she was at the beginning. Though I think she still has some issues with being a ward of the school instead of a person and she still occasionally has nightmares. Fortunately, Rogue is a light sleeper so she's able to wake Serena before anything is damaged. The only draw back is that it's a little bit harder to get her to use her powers since we usually have to get her really angry or really scared. Hopefully we'll be able to figure out what triggers her powers soon so we don't have to resort to drastic measures any more."

"That's good to hear," he replies as he watches Serena miss the flying disk as it goes sailing over her head and has to go running after it.

"I understand that Amanda had a nightmare last night," she casually mentions.

"Yes, she did," he confirms.

"Any idea what was about?" she asks, looking up at him.

"No," he answers, continuing to watch the Frisbee game going on outside. "Though I have reason to believe that…"

Before he can finish his sentence, he charges out of the room at top speed. She looks after him in confusion and then turns her gaze back out the window where she sees the girls rushing towards Amanda who's down on her knees with her face in her hands. She doesn't waste time wondering what happened as she follows Hank out the door as fast as she can.


	25. Frisbee

**Author's Notes: **A big thank you to my nine reviewers: LadyOfThePlains, LovelyLadyJem, J. Tyler, Takerslady, Mythigal, maraluch, Snape's Opera Rose, dog youkai jane, WickedGood.

* * *

"AMANDA!!" Serena shrieks as she rushes towards the woman and then drops down on the ground next to her. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Where did I get you? Oh god, I'm sorry."

"It's ok," Amanda assures the girl, trying to keep the pain out of her voice. "It was an accident."

"Oh god, it's all my fault," Serena whimpers as the others run up and then stand there, not sure what to do.

"Not completely," Kitty states. "If Jubilee hadn't made that crazy suggestion, Amanda wouldn't have looked at her and then the Frisbee wouldn't have nailed Amanda in the face."

"It wasn't crazy!" Jubilee snaps defensively.

"Well, you got to admit that it was a bit out there," Rogue puts in.

"If it's all the same to anyone else," Amanda interrupts. "Could we please have this discussion some place else? Like, say, inside perhaps."

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Hank states as he shoulders his way past the standing girls, scoops Amanda into his arms and starts back towards the mansion, ignoring the teenagers as they start to follow him.

"You know, it's my face that's hurt this time, not my legs," she teases around the pain as she slips an arm around his neck, keeping the other over half of her face.

"Yes, well, I'm not wearing a coat and it's rather chilly out here so I didn't want to waste time," he replies, suddenly realizing that he may have over stepped his bounds.

"You're covered in fur," she reminds him as she gently strokes some of that soft, silky stuff on his neck with her finger tips.

"Yes, well, it doesn't mean I'm immune to the cold," he stammers, trying to ignore the shivers running down his spine and the growing heat in his groin.

_Mate_, The Beast purrs and Hank has to refrain from burying his face in her hair.

"What happened?" Storm demands as she catches with them.

All of the girls begin answering at once and Hank just starts walking a bit faster to put some distance between them. A minute later he's depositing Amanda in a chair at the kitchen table and then squatting down next to her.

"Let's have a look at your face," he instructs.

She hesitantly lowers her hand and it takes all of his will power not to flinch in sympathy to the growing bruise.

"That bad, huh?" she quietly asks.

"Why do you say that?" he counter questions.

"Well for one, my face is throbbing, I can't open my eye all the way and you're face suddenly went very still as if you were trying not to wince," she answers.

"How close to your eye did the Frisbee get you?" he asks as he goes over to the freezer and pulls out the ice tray.

"Just above it," she replies as he gets a plastic bag out of a drawer and then starts to put ice in it. "How bad is it?"

"It shouldn't be too bad if you put ice on it to keep the swelling down," he responds as he grabs a towel, wraps it around the bag and then hands it to her.

"Thanks," she says as she takes the offered item and puts it against her face. "You didn't answer my question."

"Well, hopefully with the ice there, the bruising won't be too bad," he replies as he returns the tray to the freezer.

"You're still not answering my question," she points out.

"It's still too early to tell," he tells her evasively.

He turns to look at her and immediately wishes he hadn't. She's staring at him with one glaring eye and a very serious look on her face. He feels like a butterfly pinned to a board and he's pretty sure hears The Beast give a little whimper as he takes a small step back.

"Please answer my question," she requests in a tone of voice that promises him a lot of trouble if he doesn't.

"It currently looks like someone punched you in the eye and it's liable to get worse," he finally answers and she closes her eye with a sigh. "But with continued icing, it shouldn't be too bad."

"I was afraid of that," she mutters, sagging into her seat.

"It doesn't look that bad," he tries to assure her.

"I imagine it'll look quite lovely when I have to go to court on Tuesday," she replies with bothering to look up.

"Oh dear," he mumbles.

Just then, Storm and the girls come trooping into the kitchen with Kitty and Jubilee both looking ticked off, Rogue looking thoughtful and Serena on the verge of tears. Amanda opens her good eye and sits up again as they come to a stop around the table.

"Are you alright?" Storm asks.

"I'll be fine," Amanda assures her.

"I'm sorry I distracted you just when Serena threw the Frisbee," Jubilee sulkily says.

"It's alright, Jubilee," Amanda replies. "It just surprised me more than anything."

"Crazy questions will do that," Kitty mutters under her breath and Storm gets a frown on her face while Jubilee looks ready to start yelling.

"It wasn't a crazy question," Amanda interjects before there's an explosion. "Impractical maybe, but not crazy."

"You can't be seriously considering it," Kitty says in surprise.

"No, I'm not, but it's because it's impractical, not because it's crazy," Amanda replies.

"So what's the difference?" Kitty asks.

"The difference is that crazy means that the idea is so far out there that it would be like asking for the moon," Amanda answers, shifting the ice on her eye slightly. "Impractical means that while it sounds like a good idea, the feasibility of it isn't possible."

"I still think it's crazy," Kitty grumbles.

"Of the four of you, how many of you are wards of the school?" Amanda asks and of the four girls, only Kitty doesn't raise her hand. "Kitty, when the holidays come, where do you go?"

"I go home to visit with my parents," Kitty answers.

"You see, that's why it doesn't make sense to you why Jubilee made her suggestion," Amanda points out. "You have a family and home to go to, they don't. Is it so wrong for them to want to have what you have?"

"No," Kitty replies and turns to Jubilee. "I'm sorry I said your idea was crazy."

"That's ok," Jubilee smiles and hugs her friend.

"Ok, now that that's taken care of, I would like to talk to Serena alone for a bit," Amanda says and then waits patiently for everyone else to leave, including Hank. "Serena, have a seat."

Serena sits across the table from Amanda and stares at the table top, refusing to look the woman in the face.

"I'm guessing you're not too happy with me right now," Amanda states softly.

"Hey, my own parents and grandparents don't want me, why should you?" Serena replies with a half hearted shrug.

"Would it surprise you to know that I had thought about becoming your legal guardian for a while?" Amanda asks.

"Then why didn't you?" Serena demands, tear filled eyes finally looking up at the woman. "Why didn't you adopt me instead of letting a _school_ take me?"

"Because, truth be told, this school is a much better choice as a guardian than me," Amanda admits. "I would make a horrible guardian to you, Serena. My work is my life, I work long hours, I spend most of my free time in the library and if it weren't for my friend Doug, I'd never do anything else. I have managed to kill cacti, trusting me with a living person is one of the worse things the courts could ever do."

"So the reason you don't want to be my guardian is because you don't think you'd be any good at it?" Serena asks.

"Exactly," Amanda answers.

"But you've done all these great things for me," Serena says with a sniff. "You took my case, you…"

"Serena, I'm not ready to be a parent," Amanda interrupts. "In a couple of years you'll be a legal adult. Finish you're schooling here, get control over your powers, figure out what you want to do with your life and then go for it. Miss Munroe and this school are so much better equipped to give you that than I ever will be."

"But you've been emailing me and you came up here…," Serena weakly protests.

"I can be and will continue to be your friend," Amanda tells her. "But being a friend and being a parent are two different things. Can you understand that?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Serena sighs as she wipes her eyes. "When are you going to leave?"

"I figured after lunch I'd get going," Amanda replies as she shifts the ice again. "I still need to go grocery shopping and do laundry."

"Uhg, don't remind me about laundry," Serena grumbles. "It's my turn to help with the laundry this week."

"I was kind of wondering about that," Amanda replies. "Does that mean you're doing other people's dirty clothes?"

"No, everyone has an assigned time to use the washers and dryers for their personal stuff," Serena tells her. "When you have it as a chore, you get the joy of washing, drying, folding and putting away all of the sheets and towels in this place and we use a _lot_ of those things in this place."

"I could very well imagine," Amanda chuckles.

Before anymore can be said about dirty linens, there's a quiet knock at the door. They turn and see Hank tentatively sticking his head in the kitchen.

"I hate to interrupt, but I'd like to examine that eye further," he says. "Are you about done?"

"Yeah," Serena answers as she stands up. "I better go find Kitty and the others. Kitty's been trying to come up with a special surprise for Logan ever since yesterday."

"Just don't do anything that'll require a lawyer afterwards," Amanda laughs while Serena heads for the door.

"Don't worry, we won't," Serena giggles as she leaves.

"Alright, let's have a better look at that eye," he instructs as he takes the seat next to her. "Open your eye as wide as possible, please."

She obliges by lowering the bag of ice, forcing her eye as open as she can and letting him taking her chin in his hand. He shines a pen light into the injured eye before shining it into the good eye. He carefully prods the swelling and she winces with a hiss of pain.

"Sorry," he quickly apologizes as he sits back and she puts the ice back over her eye. "It doesn't look like the eye is damaged, but the swelling is making it hard to judge."

"It'll be fun driving with one eye swollen shut," she groans.

"Yes, well on that note, I'd rather you didn't try driving home with your eye like that," he tells her.

"How am I supposed to get home? Fly?" she asks, trying to ignore the throbbing pain next to her eye.

"I'll drive you," he offers.

"What do I do about the rental car?" she inquires. "They would like to have it back."

"I'm sure that there's someway they can come and get the car," he suggests.

"Only one way to find out," she replies as she fishes her cell phone out of her pocket.

She places the call and fifteen minutes later she's still trying to make it clear to the person on the other end of the line that it wouldn't be a good idea for her to drive. At this point Kurt and a few of the students come into the kitchen to start preparing lunch. They give her and Hank curious looks, but other than that, they ignore the couple. By the time she gets off of the phone with the agency, lunch is nearly complete and she's about ready to scream.

"I've come to the conclusion that the people who work at care rental agencies are rejects from the fast food industry," she states, trying to keep a hold of her temper as Hank chuckles.

"I doubt they're all that bad, but you did seem to get someone who doesn't seem to be on the upper end of the food chain," he snickers.

"I better go pack," she sighs as she puts down her bag of ice water. "They want me to stick around until they can get someone up here to retrieve the car. So much for getting anything done when I get home."

"Look at it as extra time with Serena," he suggests, silently wishing it was him that would get that blessing.

"I need to pack first," she points out as they both rise from their seats and exit the now bustling kitchen. "Maybe I can convince them to watch a nice safe movie this time."

"That sounds good," he smiles as he leads her through the twists and turns of passage ways. "I'll be ready to go when you are."

"How do you I find you in this place?" she asks as they finally end up back in the foyer. "I'm no Sarah Winchester."

"I'll be around," he assures her while they start climbing the stairs together. "I can usually be found in the library though."

"You know, that's one room they haven't shown me yet," she states as they reach the top.

"I would gladly show it to you, if you like," he offers while they walk towards their rooms.

"That would be great," she replies as they get to his door. "Should I just meet you out here?"

"Yes, when you're ready," he answers as he steps into his room.

* * *

A while later, he leads her into the library and the look of wonder on her face makes him grin.

"I've seen public libraries smaller than this room," she whispers in awe.

"Yes, well, unfortunately for them, they aren't as well funded as they should be," he sadly replies.

"I could get lost in this room and be content to stay that way," she admits as she delicately runs a hand over the spines of several books.

"I know what you mean," he says as he watches her facial expressions. "This is one of my favorite rooms in the mansion. I remember many a winter evening spent by the fire with a good book and a snifter of brandy."

"Sounds lovely," she replies and turns to see him standing very close to her. "I remember doing something similar when I lived with my parents, but I was usually under a warm fuzzy blanket and it was hot cocoa, not brandy."

"Hot cocoa sounds good, too," he responds quietly as he moves even closer to her.

She swallows a nervous lump in her throat as her heart starts pounding against her ribs. She looks up into those incredible blue eyes and gets lost in them, unable to think beyond how incredibly good he smells. The warmth radiating from his body is sending delightful shivers down her spine and heating up all the right places. He starts to lean forward and her good eye starts to close of its own will.

"I'm not interruptin' anythin', am I?" Logan asks from the door that he's casually leaning against as they jump apart.

She hears Hank give a low, deep growl that's more felt than heard, but it's obvious that Logan hears it as he stands up straight and curls his fingers into fists. She's not sure, but she can swear that she hears a snarl coming from the other man.

"Is there something you wanted, Logan?" she asks hurriedly.

"The kid was wonderin' why you hadn't shown up for lunch yet," Logan answers, giving Hank a long, hard look before turning to her. "What happened to your face?"

"Frisbee," she tells him before turning to Hank. "I should get going. Where do you want to meet after the car rental people get here?"

"I'll come and find you," Hank assures her. "Go have fun with Serena. I'm sure she'll love the extra time with you."

"Alright, I'll see you later," she replies and heads for the door only to find her way blocked by Logan.

"Need me to show you the way, darlin'?" Logan nearly purrs.

"No thank you, I can manage," she responds and stares at him until he finally moves out of the way.

"You have a death wish, boy?" Hank growls.

"Gettin' a mite possessive ain't ya?" Logan snickers before walking off.

Hank is half tempted to go after the other man when he realizes that The Beast is getting the better of him. He can hear it snarling and roaring in his head and he takes a deep breath for force himself to relax. He silently tells The Beast to calm down; after all, in a couple of hours they were going to have Amanda all to themselves. As The Beast digests this information, Hank goes off in search of his own lunch and nearly laughs out loud when The Beast starts to purr.


	26. Time to go

**Author's Notes:** Thank you WickedGood, LovelyLadyJem, LadyOfThePlains, maraluch, dog youkai jane, Takerslady, J. Tyler and Mythigal for your reviews. They do mean a lot to me. I wrote this one to be amusing, so just be warned. As always, please enjoy and review.

* * *

"So what do you think?" Kitty asks excitedly.

"I think you're nuts, but that's just my opinion," Amanda replies without bothering to look over at the teen. "You're missing the movie."

"Oh, come on, you've shot down every single idea I've had," Kitty pouts. "And I've seen this movie so many times I could recite it in my sleep."

"That's because I don't want to see you get turned into lunch meat," Amanda states, shifting the most recent bag of ice on her face and slouching down lower on the couch. "I've seen that man bare his claws once in my life. That's enough for me, thank you."

"Well what would you do?" Kitty demands.

"Give him a very wide berth," Amanda answers, trying to keep her attention on Brad Pitt.

"You're no help," Kitty mutters, slouching down in her seat.

"You didn't ask for my help, you asked for my opinion," Amanda points out causing the other girls snicker.

"Would you please help us think of something?" Kitty begs.

"Stay away from him," Amanda responds.

"That's not helping," Kitty grumbles.

"Yes it is," Amanda tells her. "You try to pull a prank on him too soon and he'll know it's you."

"Oh, I get it," Kitty snickers. "Wait until he's forgotten about this whole thing and then pull a fast one on him. So any suggestions on what we could do to him?"

"I refuse to contribute to the delinquency of a minor," Amanda states.

"We won't tell anyone, we promise," Kitty replies excitedly.

"I know you four won't, but what's to stop him?" Amanda inquires, pointing at the ceiling and the girls look up to see Kurt hanging above them.

"Oh, 'ello," Kurt greets with a shy smile and a hesitant wave.

"KURT!" Rogue yells in indignation. "How long have you been up there?"

"Long enough to know that Herr Logan should not be lettink 'is guard down any time soon," Kurt replies with a smirk as he crawls down a wall. "Though I am most curious, _Kätzchen_, vhat vere you doing vith my undervear?"

Kitty doesn't answer but instead sits there looking like a fish out of water with her mouth opening and closing, her eyes bugged out and making strange strangled noises for about five seconds before she sinks through the chair she's sitting in. Jubilee and Rogue stare at Kitty in shock until the other girl disappears and then start busting up while Amanda has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing herself. Kitty snaps out of her shock, pops back up through the chair and turns on Serena who also has a stunned look on her face until she sees Kitty glaring at her.

"I didn't tell him, I swear!" Serena immediately states before Kitty can get a word out.

"Before this turns into another yelling match, perhaps we should consider who would want to tell Herr Wagner about the underwear," Amanda calmly states, watching the blue mutant with her one good eye. "If it wasn't Serena who told him, then who could have? And who would want to?"

With a loud 'bamf' Kurt is suddenly gone and Kitty nearly growls in frustration.

"That's it, I'm going to kill Logan," Kitty snarls as she stands up and marches out of the room. "With my bare hands!"

"Does that mean we can…," Serena starts hopefully as Kitty's stomping feet fade away.

"No," Amanda interrupts. "The deal was for _Logan_ to stop tormenting Kitty. We never stipulated that he couldn't get someone else to do it for him."

"That sucks," Serena mutters, slouching down in the couch next to Amanda.

"I seem to have underestimated Logan," Amanda admits. "Who knew the man could figure out a loophole in the agreement?"

"Amanda, you've got to help us figure out a way to get back at him," Serena insists.

"Oh, no I don't," Amanda chuckles. "I'm not the one who started this."

"Please, Amanda," Serena begs, laying her head on Amanda's shoulder.

"Absolute not," Amanda replies. "But I am curious about something."

"What's that?" Rogue asks.

"The clothes that Logan wears, is that it?" Amanda idly inquires. "I've only seen him wear jeans, tank tops and flannel shirts. Doesn't he wear anything else?"

"Wife beaters," Jubilee puts in.

"Excuse me?" Amanda questions.

"The shirts he wears under his flannel ones are called wife beaters," Jubilee tells the woman.

"And what a lovely term to give an article of clothing," Amanda mumbles before continuing in a regular voice. "But does he wear anything else?"

"Well, he does have a leather outfit he wears every once and a while," Rogue replies thoughtfully. "But, no, Ah've never seen him wear anything else."

"To bad," Amanda muses. "I imagine he'd cut a rather fine figure in a suit."

The three girls look at her quizzically for a good minute before Rogue starts snickering. Serena and Jubilee get it a few moments later and evil grins spread across their faces. Storm walks in, sees them and immediately starts to worry.

"What's going on?" Storm demands, eyes narrowed at the girls.

"Oh nothing," Jubilee answers with an innocent look on her face which the other two copy and Storm is not buying it for a second if her frown is any indication.

"We were just talking about some people's fashion sense," Amanda says, looking over at the white haired woman.

"Yeah, that's right," Serena agrees a little too readily.

"Uh-huh, right," Storm grumbles. "Amanda, the guy from the car rental agency is here."

"Ok," Amanda sighs as she gets to her feet. "Thank you, Ororo."

"You're welcome," Storm responds before casting another suspicious gaze at the girls and then leaving.

"I guess you're finally leaving then, huh?" Serena says in a small voice.

"I'm afraid so," Amanda replies gently, looking down at the girl. "I had a lot of fun this weekend. Thank you for helping me get ready for my date last night."

"You're welcome," Serena responds as she stands up. "Need help finding the front door?"

"Of course," Amanda answers sadly as she hands her bag of mostly melted ice over to Rogue with a smile of thanks. "I still haven't figured out how no one gets lost in this place."

"After you've been her a while, you figure things out," Serena replies as she leads Amanda out of the rec room and then gets a mischievous smile on her face. "Though there are tales of a student that took a wrong turn one time and was never heard from again. But on cold, dark nights, you can sometimes hear her crying for help."

"Save it for the campfire," Amanda smirks as she drapes her arm over Serena's shoulders. "I used to scare my sister spitless with ghost stories when I was growing up."

"Hey, it was worth a try," Serena chuckles. "And if it had worked, you could have snuggled up to the Ambassador for safety and comfort all the way home."

Amanda doesn't say anything to that, but she does turn a lovely shade of crimson.

* * *

"So, gonna get lost on some deserted back road and then run out of gas?" Logan suggests with a leer.

"Don't be so crude," Hank casually replies as he turns the page in the book he's reading. "Besides, I filled up the tank right after lunch."

"I could siphon it out for ya if ya like," Logan offers.

"You will do no such thing," Hank warns him, glaring over the top of his glasses at the other mutant. "In fact, I would prefer that you don't go anywhere near my car. I am simply offering to drive her home since it would unwise for her to drive herself. I'm not some hormonally driven youth looking for an excuse to get a girl alone in a car."

"Don't know about," Logan chuckles. "Seems to me you were awful quick to tell her she couldn't drive and then offer her that ride."

"Her eye is nearly swollen shut," Hank reminds him. "It would be too dangerous for her to drive all the way back to Manhattan like that and since I'm heading back that way myself, it only makes sense that I drive her. Besides, it gives her more time with Serena."

"Sure, whatever you say, Doc," Logan smirks as he sticks an unlit half smoked cigar in his mouth.

"I was given the impression that 'Ro doesn't want you smoking those things inside the mansion," Hank observes as he looks back down at his book.

"Ain't smokin' it, now am I?" Logan shoots back. "I'm just holdin' it in my mouth."

"A bit old to be using a pacifier, aren't you?" Hank teases.

He tries not to smile as he can practically feel Logan's eyes boring holes into him and instead concentrates on the tome open before him. He can hear Logan draw a breath to make some type of comment, probably something rude or vulgar, but then suddenly stops. Hank chances a sly glance over at the other man and sees him with his head slightly tilted and smirk on his face. Hank listens as well and a moment later can hear stomping feet headed their way and from the sound of the steps, he's fairly sure that it's a woman making those sounds.

"Now, which lady of the house have you upset this time, Logan?" Hank asks, still not bothering to look up.

"Not a lady," Logan chuckles around the butt of his cigar. "Just a little kitten."

"I'd be careful if I were you, my boy," Hank warns as he turns another page of his book. "Kittens have sharp claws."

"**_YOU_**!" a high pitched voice shrieks from the doorway causing both men to flinch in pain.

"Not to mention their yowls can just about bust an eardrum," Logan grumbles while Kitty storms into the room.

"You are a dead man!" she yells, stomping up to Logan who as an amused look on his face.

"Why?" Logan asks. "I ain't done nothin'."

"Oh, where do I begin with that sentence," Hank moans as he listens to Logan mangle the English language.

"YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!?" she screams as she advances on her target. "You only told Kurt about…"

"I told elf boy about what, kitten?" Logan smirks, the cigar still firmly clenched between his teeth.

"You told him…," she starts and then finally notices Hank staring at her, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "You know perfectly well what you told Kurt."

"Thought elf boy deserved to know the truth," Logan tells her smugly as her face turns bright red.

"You're a dead man," she repeats, glaring at Logan.

"Whatta gonna do, kitten?" Logan scoffs as he pushes himself off of the wall he had been leaning against and goes to stand toe to toe with the smaller mutant. "Walk through me a few times? Might want to be careful doin' that. Might like what you see beneath the clothes. Then what would you tell your Tin Man?"

Kitty's face turns an even deeper red and Hank's eyes nearly fall out of their sockets at Logan's suggestive comment. Logan takes a step, pushing her back a bit. Whether he's expecting her to step aside or to just phase through him, he's definitely not expecting her to grab the front of his shirt.

"I think it's time you learned to fly," she growls just before the two of them drop through the floor.

"What's going on?" Storm asks as she sees the other two disappear through the floor

"Kitty mentioned something about teaching Logan to fly," Hank answers, amusement coloring his voice. "The hanger is just below this room so she's at least headed in the correct direction."

"Oh god, the new Blackbird," she gasps just before she turns and runs out of the room as fast as she can.

With an amused chuckle, he goes back to his book knowing full well that the Blackbird isn't ready to be flown just yet.

* * *

"Who was that?" Serena asks, eyeing Amanda suspiciously as the woman closes her phone and slips it back into her pocket.

"A friend of mine," Amanda answers as she gets her bags from her room. "I was just letting him know that I wouldn't be back in time for us to go to dinner."

"_Him_?" Serena demands, her eyes narrowing.

"Yes, Doug is a him," Amanda answers as she heads down the hall.

"I thought you liked Hank," Serena says, sounding hurt.

"I do like Hank," Amanda chuckles. "Doug is just a friend."

"A friend that you were going to go out with," Serena states suspiciously while they descend the staircase.

"Doug and I go out to dinner every Sunday," Amanda replies.

"Does Hank know about Doug?" Serena demands. "Does he know that you're going out with another man _every_ Sunday night?"

"Yes, he knows about him and he's not threatened by me having a guy as my best friend," Amanda assures her as they go down another corridor. "I'm not going out with another man; I'm going out with my best friend."

"A best friend _who_ just happens to be a _man_," Serena points out.

"A _man_ who happens to like other _men_," Amanda tells her and watches Serena open her mouth to say something and then pauses for several seconds as what Amanda said sinks in.

"You're best friend is a gay guy?" Serena inquires.

"Yes, he is," Amanda chuckles. "It's fun to go out with him too. If we get a really cute waiter, we both flirt with him."

"You're weird," Serena blurts out without thinking.

"And you're only figuring this out now?" Amanda laughs as they step into library.

"I certainly hope I'm not the reason for such mirth," Hank states with an amused tone as he looks over the top of his glasses at the two females that just walked in.

"No, Serena just thinks I'm weird," Amanda grins at him which causes his skin to tingle. "I thought she would have figured that out when I told her that I was her lawyer, not some public defender that didn't give a rat's butt what happened to her."

"Public defenders are very over worked doing a thankless job," he points out while putting his glasses away.

"Not that guy," Serena grumbles. "He pretty much told me that he didn't care if they put me in the gas chamber since I'm a mutant. He thinks all mutants should be put down like a 'bunch of rabid dogs'. His words, not mine."

"What a charming fellow, he should run for office," he mutters as he returns his book to the shelf it came from.

"The sad thing is he's not alone in his sentiments, I'm sorry to say," Amanda sadly states.

"But like an angel of mercy, you flew in and saved Serena, for that every mutant can be thankful for you," Hank says as he crosses the room towards her.

"I can understand Serena being thankful, but every mutant?" Amanda asks with an eyebrow arched.

"You've shown them that they it's possible to defend themselves in a court of law if the need arises," he points out as he stops in front of her and takes the overnight bag slung over her shoulder. "All they need is someone who believes in them like you did with Serena."

"Her case was self defense, plain and simple," Amanda replies.

"You'll get no argument from me," he responds. "Getting a jury of twelve men and women who were more than likely not mutants to believe that was something shy of miraculous. You may have done more good for mutant kind with that one case than I have in all my years of politics."

"I also may have done more harm," Amanda states.

"As much as I hate to break up this debate, but it's really boring," Serena interrupts. "Maybe you could talk about it on the drive home."

"But we're discussing your case," he says in slight confusion.

"I'm afraid law isn't likely to be a field that Serena is going to go into," Amanda quietly chuckles. "But she is right about one thing, we should get going."

"Yes, of course," he agrees and he allows the ladies to proceed him as they leave the library and head for the garage.

"When are you going to visit next?" Serena asks as they walk down the hallway.

"I'm not sure, but it won't be until after the New Year," Amanda answers with a sad look in her eyes. "I'll try and get a weekend free as soon as I can after the holidays. Ok?"

"I suppose," Serena replies, unable to hide her disappointment.

"Be good and try to stay out of trouble," Amanda reminds her as they reach the garage. "I'll be back for another visit before you know it."

"Ok, thanks for coming all this way to visit me," Serena says as she gives the lawyer a near rib cracking squeeze. "I'm sorry about the Frisbee."

"I'm glad I could come and don't worry about the eye," Amanda assures the teenager. "I'll heal."

Hank quietly puts her bag in the trunk and then silently waits for them to stop hugging. After more than a minute, Hank worries that he may have to separate them with a crowbar. Then Jubilee sticks her head out the door and a second later Serena is gone leaving a bemuse Amanda behind.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asks.

"Yeah, I think I've taken all of the emotional rollercoaster rides that I can for now," she answers as she heads towards him. "I don't know how Ororo does it."

"She is a woman of amazing abilities," he replies as he opens the passenger door for her. "And I'm not just speaking of her powers."

"She must have the patience of Job," she muses and he chuckles as he closes the door.

"She must also be quick as deer," he says as he slides behind the wheel. "By the way, what is the situation with Kitty, Serena, Logan and it now seems Kurt?"

* * *

_Kätzchen –_ German, kitten 


	27. The Drive, pt 1

**Author's Notes: **Thank you to my nine lovely reviewers: LadyOfThePlains, J. Tyler, LovelyLadyJem, Takerslady, dog youkai jane (I'm impressed that you read my entire Magic series), Snape's Opera Rose, Mythigal, Ratdogtwo and WickedGood. Fair warning, I wrote this for the humor so hopefully it amuses. A skort is a combination of shorts and a skirt commonly worn by women tennis players.

* * *

"I'm sorry, that's privileged information," Amanda tells Hank as he starts to pull out of the garage, fighting the urge to smile.

"Then why are you trying so hard not to smile?" he asks, the corners of his own mouth twitching.

"It's just the whole thing is so ridiculous that it reminds me of something out of a sitcom," she answers while he maneuvers past the gates and onto the road.

"You know you are just piquing my curiosity," he points out. "I'm a diplomat, so I will simply apply to your better nature."

"I'm a lawyer, I don't have a better nature," she snickers.

"I beg to differ," he chuckles. "I could just resort to begging and pleading."

"You're going to be hoarse before I crack," she tells him smugly with a smirk.

"Need I remind you that I'm driving you home out of the kindness of my heart," he points out.

"Well fine, if you're going to blackmail me," she pouts, but when he glances over at her she's trying desperately not to smile.

"If that's what it takes…," he playfully warns.

"One question, how acute is Logan's hearing?" she asks.

"Like a wolf's," he answers. "But if you are concerned that he can hear us from where he is back at the mansion, where, the last I knew, he was down in the basement, you can rest assured that he cannot hear our conversation."

"Do I want to know _why_ he's down in the basement?" she questions.

"Probably not," he replies.

"Just checking," she says as she gets more comfortable in her seat. "This doesn't leave this car, agreed?"

"Agreed," he hastily agrees.

"It started a few weeks ago when Kitty decided to pull a little prank involving Kurt and Logan's…underwear," she starts.

"What did she want with their underwear?" he asks.

"She wanted to see if either one would notice if she switched them," she answers.

"Oh my stars and garters, does that girl have no shame?" he groans.

"Apparently not," she snickers. "Well, after…acquiring…Kurt's underwear she went to switch them and discovered a rather disconcerting fact."

"Which is…?" he prompts after several seconds of silence as she tries to keep a straight face.

"Logan…doesn't own any underwear," she finally manages to get out, watching him carefully.

"Oh my stars and garters," he moans and he can hear her chuckling, but he refuses to look at her. "That was something I could have lived the rest of my life happily never knowing. But how did he find out about the joke? I'm sure once she discovered there was nothing there to switch, she returned Kurt's underwear to where they belong."

"Oh she did, but she told Serena about it and Serena emailed me a few weeks ago telling me," she replies.

"But how did Logan find out?" he repeats.

"I'm afraid that was my fault," she admits. "When I finally got hold of Serena a couple of weeks ago after her little walk I mentioned Kitty taking Kurt's underwear while we were on the phone. I had no idea that Logan was standing right there or that his hearing was sharp enough to hear what I was saying."

"So Logan took it as the perfect opportunity to torment Kitty," he states. "I swear that man needs a hobby."

"He has one," she points out. "It's tormenting the girls until they're ready to drop kick him to the moon."

"I suppose it's a good thing he's such a fast healer," he muses.

"At any rate, Kitty thought Serena had told Logan about Kurt's shorts taking a trip around the mansion and of course Serena was completely innocent," she continues. "I thought I got Logan to leave Kitty alone by pointing out that she could tell everyone that Logan doesn't own any underwear. However, I underestimated Logan's intelligence and he found a loophole in the agreement."

"He told Kurt and in turn Kurt is now bugging Kitty about her taking his underwear," he sighs. "You're right; it does sound like something out of a sitcom."

"Now Kitty wants to try some other hair brained idea to get even with Logan," she tells him.

"I certainly hope you weren't helping her," he states, glancing over at her.

"No, I kept shooting her ideas down," she assures him. "I also told her to give him a good amount of time before she tried anything. Hopefully by the time he forgets, she will have too."

"Now, what did set Kitty off?" he questions. "She came storming into the library about ready to throttle Logan."

"Kurt showed up asking what she was doing with his underwear," she answers. "Not only did this embarrass Kitty, it also gave a juicy bit of gossip to Rogue and Jubilee. Serena was hoping that this meant that they could tell people about Logan's lack of underclothing but unfortunately the agreement was for Logan to stop tormenting Kitty with it, not that he couldn't get someone else to do it for him. Who knew that there's a brain behind those mutton chops."

"Logan is not a Rhodes scholar by any stretch of the imagination," he tells her. "But never underestimate him. There's a cleaver, calculating brain in that head of his and he can be very dangerous when he puts it to use."

"I'll keep that in mind if I ever face him in court," she smirks.

"You're more likely to find him on a tennis court than a court of law," he chuckles.

"Then maybe all those God awful tennis lessons my mother used to make me take every summer would finally pay off," she snickers. "Could you imagine him in tennis shorts?"

"He wouldn't use a racket to hit the ball," he chortles. "He would just growl at the ball until it ran for fear of its life."

"I could just see it bouncing off going, 'YIPE, YIPE, YIPE' like some little dog running for its green fuzzy life," she chortles, starting to really laugh a moment later while holding her side and it takes a few gasping breaths a minute later for her to regain something that closely resembles composure.

"I didn't think it was that funny," he quietly muses, glancing a bit worriedly at her.

"Sorry, my over active imagination just put Logan into a tennis skort," she snickers just before breaking into uncontrollable giggles again for several seconds.

"Oh my stars and garters," he groans as she finally calms down a bit. "I'm not sure I like your imagination right now. I'm going to be having nightmares of Logan running around in a skort now, I'm sure of it."

"You say that quite frequently, don't you?" she asks.

"Say what?" he counter questions.

"'Oh my stars and garters'," she says.

"Yes, well I find the usual exclamations that a lot of people use lacks any real finesse and some are quite vulgar," he replies. "I did find what you yelled this morning a bit interesting."

"What I yelled?" she inquires, trying to remember any yelling she might have done.

"When the girls woke you up rather rudely," he clarifies.

"Oh, the thing about Jesus, Mary and Joseph," she recalls. "Yeah, well my parents are very much into the church thing so I needed to come up with something to yell that wouldn't get my mouth washed out with soap when I was a kid."

"Are you very devout?" he asks.

"Not nearly as much as Mom and Dad," she answers. "I'm sort of like those armchair warriors. I watch from the sidelines for the most part these days. Though when I'm home, I do go to church with my parents. What about you? Any particular religion you follow?"

"I'm afraid your parents would be disappointed in me," he answers. "I have no belief one way or another. I've seen too much to put my trust in blind faith."

"I tend to look at it as a moral guide line than blind faith, but that's me," she states with a shrug. "Not that Mom's been happy about that, but at least I haven't completely joined the 'other side'."

"The 'other side'?" he questions.

"Paganism," she replies. "One of my cousins announced that she was a practicing witch a couple of Thanksgivings ago. She did it right in the middle of dinner too. I thought my grandparents were going to have heart attacks and my mother looked like she was going to explode. Then last year she brought her husband _and_ her boyfriend with her and all three of them slept in the same bed. Luckily I was sleeping downstairs on the other side of the house so I was not privy to the sexual Olympics going on in that room. I wonder what she's going to do to top that this year."

"I want to go to your parent's house for Thanksgiving," he laughs.

"Not a chance," she replies with a look of horror on her face.

"Ah, I see," he says suddenly becoming serious. "I guess bringing me home to meet your family would be a bit of a shock."

"No, you don't see," she responds. "It's not because you're a mutant or because you're covered in blue fur or even the fact that you're the US Ambassador to the UN. It's because I don't hate you that much. My family is certifiably insane and I wouldn't inflict them on my worst enemy."

"Come now, they can't be that bad," he chuckles, a feeling of relief washing over him at her words.

"I wouldn't take bets on that if I were you," she snorts. "I've got one grandfather who enjoys the sound of his own voice so much that he'll tell his life story to anyone who'll sit still long enough, even if they're unconscious. If you let him go long enough he'll try and convince you that Jacques Cousteau stole the basic of concept of scuba from him and that he brought a merchant marine ship into port without any of the crew. You know that filter in your brain that keeps you from making inappropriate comments?"

"Yes."

"My other grandfather doesn't have it," she continues. "No mater how rude or inappropriate the comment, he'll make it and to top it off, he'd give Oscar the Grouch grouch lessons. One of my grandmother's is so fond of boys that she fawns all over her grandsons, but barely acknowledges the existence of her granddaughters. I've got an uncle who gets drunk every year and ends up doing something totally crazy. Last year he danced on the dinning room table in nothing but his boxer shorts. One of my aunt's is widowed and since my uncle died she has dedicated her life to spoiling her three miniature poodles and takes them everywhere with her, even to church. Never mind that they are yappy little monsters that terrorize the little kids and bite anyone who comes near them. Oh, and to add to the special joy, they're not house broken. Then there's one cousin who is of the opinion that any woman who doesn't have as many babies as physically possible is being selfish. She just had baby number six and every year my sister, my female cousins and the wives of my male cousins spend the holiday having her badger them to have more babies. I get special treatment since I'm not married yet and get told how I'm not doing God's work by not going forth and multiplying. Oh and then there's another cousin's only son who's the most spoiled rotten brat on the face of the planet. My cousin is positive that I'm the Devil incarnate because I refuse to give into his every whim and has gone to great lengths to turn everyone in the family against me."

"Are you certain that you haven't been watching soap operas?" he asks, trying not to laugh.

"I wish my family was as normal as a soap opera family," she grumbles. "I honestly wonder why people even watch those shows. When you have family, you've got a soap opera built right into your life."

"I never thought of it like that, but you're right," he muses with a smile. "But I am wondering about something now."

"What's that?" she asks.

"If you don't enjoy spending time with your family, why go?" he questions.

"It's not that I don't enjoy spending time with them," she answers. "I love my family, but it does remind me of a three ring circus when I'm there. For all the nutsoes in my family, there are the ones who make it all worth my while. For instance, my other grandmother is the sweetest woman on Earth and she taught me how to play the piano and to draw and the rest of my family is perfectly nice, normal people. Plus I get the joy of spending the day spoiling my nieces and nephew and getting them totally hyped up on sugar before they head home."

"That's not very nice," he gently admonishes.

"It's my duty as their aunt and I take it seriously," she snickers. "Besides, it drives my sister buggy."

"Do you delight in tormenting your sister?" he asks.

"Hey, everyone has to have a hobby," she tells him with a huge grin. "Mine is driving my sister insane."

"That's cruel," he replies, trying very hard not to laugh and failing.

"Annie prefers the term 'evil'," she chuckles evilly.

"Now you're just being mean," he points out, blue eyes narrowing as he looks at her from the corner of his eye.

"I love my sister, but due to some circumstances beyond her control, she's been the center of our parent's attention for most of our lives," she quietly tells him, staring out the side window. "Before it was just my way at getting back at her for it, but now, I just do it to remind her that she's not as perfect as she thinks she is."

"What happened?" he softly inquires.

"When we were six, she got very sick," she answers barely above a whisper. "She almost died."

"What was she sick with?" he asks as she leans her head against the window.

"It was a virulent bacterial infection that normal antibiotics just couldn't seem to get rid of," she explains, her arms wrapping around herself as if she's cold. "If it hadn't been for one of the doctors suggesting an experimental treatment, I would have probably been an only child."

"What was the treatment?" he questions.

"I don't know, all I do know is that it involved a lot of needles," she replies with a shiver.

"Are you cold?" he inquires. "I have a blanket in the backseat if you want it."

"I'm ok," she assures him. "Just remember seeing Annie there with all of those needles sticking in her always gives me the willies."

"Because of her almost dying or because of the needles?" he asks.

"The needles," she admits. "I was six when it happened, I didn't truly grasp the concept of death yet. But those needles were real enough and so were Annie's screams. I've never been able to handle needles since then."

"I take it a trip to the doctor's isn't one of your favorite past times," he says and she gives a sarcastic snort.

"Show me a person who does like going to the doctor and I'll show you a hypochondriac who's looking for attention," she retorts.

"True," he admits with a nod. "But something tells me it's even less pleasant for you than for others."

"If I even so much as see a needle, I freak," she quietly admits. "Not exactly something I'm proud of."

"We all have our fears, my dear," he tries to comfort.

"Do you need to be held down by two orderlies and a nurse just so the doctor can give you a shot?" she asks a bit testily.

"No, they don't," he replies. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to bring up something so painful."

"It's alright," she sighs as she leans against the door. "It's not your fault I get all wigged out by needles. Sorry I snapped."

"Perfectly understandable," he assures her. "Are you alright?"

"Just tired," she admits. "Those girls wore me out."

"Go ahead and get some rest," he tells her. "We still have a ways to go before we're back in Manhattan."

"No, I couldn't," she yawns. "Oh, excuse me."

"It's perfectly alright," he chuckles quietly. "You're body needs rest and you're not doing yourself any favors by forcing yourself to stay awake. Now just lie down and get some sleep."

"I feel horrible; I keep falling asleep on you," she says as she lies down next to him on the bench seat. "I can't imagine what you think of me for doing that."

"Actually, I find it rather heart warming," he replies as he reaches into the backseat with one long arm and grabs the neatly folded blanket there.

"How so?" she asks, taking the blanket from him and covering herself with it.

"It means your comfortable enough in my presence that you can relax to the point where you fall asleep," he answers as he helps tuck her in with one hand. "Not many people are willing to do that."

"I don't know why," she starts as she squirms around until the belt buckle of her seatbelt is no longer jabbing her in the side. "But with you I don't feel like I have to pretend I'm someone I'm not. I've never felt that way before with a man I'm dating."

She lets out another yawn and her eyes drift close as he glances down at her, her head a mere inch from his hip. Within moments her breathing becomes slow and steady as her body completely relaxes. He cautiously starts to stroke her soft hair and she lets out a quiet sigh as she slips into a deeper sleep.

"Thank you," he whispers as they drive on through the overcast afternoon.


	28. The Drive, pt 2

**Author's Notes:** Thank you to my nine reviewers: LadyOfThePlains, Snape's Opera Rose, J. Tyler, Takerslady, Ratdogtwo, LovelyLadyJem, AngerManagementIssues45, Mythigal, WickedGood. Hope this one is as amusing as the last chapter.

* * *

_Mate_, The Beast purrs sometime after Amanda has fallen asleep and Hank sighs as he continues to stroke her hair.

"Maybe someday," Hank mutters under his breath while he casts another glance down at the woman sleeping beside him.

_Mate!_ The Beast insists with a bit of a growl.

"Patience," Hank reminds it calmly.

Hank's too busy enjoying the feeling of the soft hair beneath his fingers to be too concerned about his primal self. He can 'hear' it growling in the back of his mind, pacing in its cage and Hank is confident that there's nothing it can do to make Hank release it. When Amanda moans his name in her sleep he's taken completely by surprise and that's when The Beast attacks, catching Hank where he's most vulnerable.

* * *

_She's sitting in her favorite tree back at her parent's place, but instead of her back resting against the trunk of the tree like normal, she's sitting in Hank's lap with her back against his chest. He's stroking her hair and she sighs with contentment as she relaxes further into him. She's not sure how long she's been sitting there, but she yearns to touch him, to pet him, stroke him, but her arms seem to be made out of lead and he refuses to put his other arm around her._

"_Hank," she whimpers._

_She tries to lift her arms but they refuse to cooperate and she starts to become frustrated. She tries to move but the paralysis in her arms seems to have spread to her entire body. She about ready to scream in frustration when the tree starts to violently shake and then something softly bumps the top of her head._

* * *

An image of Amanda lying under him in a bed, her hair a black halo around her head on the pillow, her eyes closed, a look of ecstasy on her face, small mewls of pleasure escape her lips and a thin layer of sweat coats her body suddenly appears in his mind's eye. It catches him completely by surprise and to make maters worse he can feel his blood heading south as his pants start to get uncomfortably tight. He's so distracted that it's not until he hits the rumble strip that he realizes that he's drifting off of the road.

He grabs the wheel with both hands and regains control of the car while he shifts around in his seat trying to get more comfortable. Amanda gives a small grunt of surprise as his hip bumps into the top of her head and her eyes blink open. He groans inwardly as he brings all of the wheels back up onto the road and she pushes herself up onto her arms, groggily looking around.

"What's going on?" she asks sleepily.

"Oh, uh, nothing, my dear," he hastily assures her. "Just avoiding something in the road. I'm sorry to have woken you, go back to sleep."

"How long have I been asleep?" she questions with a yawn while she moves back into her seat.

"About an hour," he replies, trying to keep the tension out of his voice since he desperately wants to readjust himself with his hand but doesn't dare. "It's alright if you want to get a bit more sleep."

"No, that's ok," she responds as she arches her back in a stretch, her arms over her head and he can feel even more blood headed for below the belt. "If I nap any more, I won't get any sleep tonight. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he answers as he shifts one of his legs to try and ease his discomfort. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you keep shifting around like something's bothering you," she replies as she starts to try and fold the blanket.

"I seem to be developing a bit of a leg cramp," he hastily lies.

"Would you like me to drive for a while?" she offers, dreading that he'll say 'yes'.

"No, that's alright," he assures her. "Would you mind if we pulled off for a bit? I'm in need of a restroom."

"That sounds good," she replies. "I could use one myself."

Hank takes the next exit off of the highway and they drive on in silence as he tries to ignore the discomfort in his pants and she tries to remember the dream she was having. A short time later they're pulling up in front of a little coffee shop and they get out without a word. He eyes the place suspiciously, but the discomfort between his legs is really leaving him no choice.

"Well, this place seems harmless enough," she states as she starts for the door. "Shall we go in?"

"It's not the building that concerns me, but the people inside," he replies as he can see several people through the glass staring at them.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," she tells him with a shrug. "Beside, now that I've been thinking about it, I could really use a bathroom too."

"Alright, let's go inside," he says as he comes around the car twitching his hips in hopes that his body will start to behave.

"Are you alright?" she inquires, a slightly worried look on her face. "You're walking kind of funny."

"Cramp," he reminds her.

"Oh, right," she replies and tries to hide her smile as he opens the door for her.

Warm air filled with the smells of fresh roasted coffee and baked goods washes over them and they both inhale deeply. They quickly step inside, letting the door close itself behind them and pointedly ignore the people glaring at them. Amanda heads for the line of people waiting to place their orders with Hank following close behind.

"I'm going to get something to help me wake up," she states over her shoulder at him. "Would you like me to get you something?"

"A small black coffee will be fine, thank you," he replies distractedly as he carefully watches the people around them.

"Ok," she says. "Why don't you go use the bathroom, while I place our orders?"

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking a bit worried.

"I think I can manage to order a couple of coffees by myself even with one eye," she tells him with a hint of a smile on her lips. "Go to the bathroom, I'll be fine. See if you can work that _cramp_ out of your leg."

By the time what she's said sinks into his brain, she's turned back around and he's staring at the back of her head. He regretfully realizes that despite the several minutes of driving, the cold air and the openly hostile looks some of the other clients are giving them, he still has a problem with his pants being too tight. With as much dignity that he can muster, he heads towards the back of the shop and down a hallway towards the bathrooms.

He figures a paper towel soaked in cold water should help relieve his rather embarrassing predicament, but when he steps into the bathroom all he sees is one of those power air driers on the wall. With a groan of disappointment, he locks the door behind him and stares down at the very obvious bulge in his pants. He tries to concentrate on The Beast and finds it quite smugly sitting at the back of his mind and Hank knows it's the reason his blood is pooling in that one area of his anatomy.

With a sigh of frustration, Hank tries to will his blood to go back to where it belongs, but still his body is conspiring against him as his engorged member refuses to reduce in size. He tries to concentrate on a complex scientific formula he's been working on in his spare time and yet his pants remain painfully constricting. He desperately tries to think of something that will shrink his problem down when suddenly he gets a mental image of Logan in a skort and that takes care of everything.

With a sigh of relief, he uses the facilities, washes his hands and then goes in search of his passenger. He finds her patiently waiting at a table near the hallway with a couple of cups of coffee sitting in front of her.

"There you are," she smiles. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to call in the National Guard to rescue you."

He gives her a rather sardonic look and she stands up.

"My turn," she tells him with a grin and then starts to head off to the restroom, pausing just behind him. "Glad to see you got that cramp worked out of your leg."

He listens to her foot steps disappearing down the hall and then with a groan he bangs his head a few times on the table, ignoring the stares people around him are giving him. It's not embarrassing enough to get a blasted erection around her, but to have her notice is beyond humiliating. With another sigh of disgust, he sits back up, rubbing his forehead and patiently waits for her return.

* * *

She stands staring at the mirror waiting for the bright red glow of her face to fade. She can't believe that she just teased him about such an embarrassing predicament, especially since he had been such a gentleman about it and not a letch like some other guys she's dated. She splashes some water on her face to help cool it down, touches up her makeup and then heads back out where she nearly runs into a good looking man that's several inches taller than her and has muscles to spare.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologizes, taking a quick step back.

"That's ok, sugar," he smirks as he leers at her.

"Um, excuse me, I need to get by," she says as she tries to squeeze past him in the narrow hallway.

"Where ya goin', sweet cheeks?" he asks while continuing to ogle her.

"My friend is waiting for me," she answers as she continues to try and get past him.

"You mean that freak?" he scoffs as he steps closer to her, forcing her to step back against the wall. "I could show you a much better time than that giant blue hairball."

"That 'freak' is Ambassador Henry McCoy and you would do well to remember that," she warns, glaring at him as best she can with one eye nearly swollen shut. "Now please let me by."

"He give you that black eye?" the man questions as he continues to block her way.

"No, he didn't," she replies coldly. "Now please get out of my way."

She pushes her way past him but only gets a couple of steps before one of his beefy arms is around her middle, dragging her backwards and before she can scream his hand is over her mouth.

* * *

Hank waits patiently for his traveling companion who, according to his watch, is taking much longer in the bathroom than he did. He contemplates various teases he can give her when an odor he's only smelled once before reaches his nostrils and he growls deep in his throat. He launches himself out of his seat, knocking both chair and table over while sending their drinks flying as he follows the scent of Amanda's fear.

* * *

After getting over the initial shock of being grabbed, Amanda's fear nearly paralyzes her as this Neanderthal drags her further away from Hank. Then she thinks of James and what he had planned on doing to her just a week ago. Her fear turns to rage in about two nanoseconds as she refuses to be a victim of yet another male who views women as little more than things.

She drives her elbow into his solar plexus causing him to grunt in pain and stop for a second. The instant they stop moving, she drives her heel down onto his instep causing him to give a small yelp of pain and loosen his grip on her. Her fist flies over her shoulder and nails him right in the nose and his grip on her loosens even more as he grabs his face and lets out a shout. Before he has time to recover, her arm swings downward in a hundred and eighty degree arc before her hand connects to his groin and she steps out of the way as he starts to topple like a redwood tree.

* * *

Hank charges down the hallway towards the bathroom and follows the sound of a struggle going on just around the corner. He skids around the turn in time to see a fairly large man collapsing to the ground holding his manhood and his face and a very pissed off Amanda walking away from him. She looks like she's about to spit nails as she fishes her phone out of her pocket.

"What happened?" he asks, staring at the man writhing in pain on the floor.

"I taught him to S.I.N.G.," she snarls while she opens the phone with a shaking hand and starts trying to dial.

"Soprano from of the looks of it, too," he mutters as he slightly cringes in sympathy and then lays his hand on top of hers to stop her from making her call. "You'll get the police here a lot faster if you use a land line."

"What's going on here?" a strange man's voice demands.

"Or maybe even sooner if you don't call at all," Hank mutters as he turns towards a pair of police officers that are standing in the hallway, hands on their guns.

"We got a report of a mutant causing a disturbance," the second officer states, glaring at Hank, his badge reading McDuff.

"The man you want is over there," Amanda states, pointing at the man trying to get up off of the floor.

"He doesn't look like a mutant," the first officer says, suspiciously eyeing her and his badge reading Shaffer.

"You do realize that most mutants look perfectly normal don't you?" Amanda asks with a raised eyebrow.

"What happened?" Shaffer asks as he moves past Amanda and Hank to get a better look at the man still trying to get to his feet.

"I came out of the bathroom, that man was standing there blocking my way, I asked him to move, he refused, he insulted Ambassador McCoy, I tried to leave and then he grabbed me," Amanda answers precisely and succinctly.

"Is that what happened, sir?" Shaffer questions.

"Of course not," the man hisses in pain. "I was just standin' there mindin' my own business when she came out and propositioned me. Seein' as I have a wife and kids, I of course refused and then she attacked me."

"Are you sure that's how it happened, sir?" Shaffer inquires.

"Yeah, I'm sure," the man snaps.

"Miss?" Shaffer prompts.

"I suggest that you ask the manager for the surveillance tape," she suggests, pointing up at the small camera mounted in the corner at a perfect angle to get everything on tape.

"That sounds like a really good idea," Shaffer agrees as he helps the man to his feet. "Let's go do that right now."

"I'm tellin' ya, she attacked me," the man insists as Shaffer continues to help the man along by firmly holding onto his arm.

The five of them tromp out of the hallway into the main dinning area where a couple of workers are cleaning up a mess nearby. A woman behind the counter with a name tag that says 'Joan' comes bustling out towards them and she looks very upset.

"Officer, I want you to arrest that…_thing_," Joan demands while pointing at Hank.

"On what charges?" Shaffer asks.

"He was wrecking the place," Joan retorts angrily.

"How did I do that?" Hank questions, a bit perplexed.

"You were knocking over chairs and tables and sending coffee flying everywhere," Joan spits out.

"I do admit that in my haste to assist Miss Simon that I may have upset my chair and the table, but I would hardly call that 'wrecking the place'," Hank states. "However, I will gladly pay for the damages that I may have incurred."

"Are you the manager?" Shaffer asks the woman, distracting her from Hank for a moment.

"And the owner," Joan tells him huffily.

"We need to see the security tape for that back hallway," Shaffer replies.

"What for?" Joan asks.

"There was an altercation back there but we're getting mixed reports," Shaffer answers. "We need to see the tape to see who the culprit really is."

"Is this more important than some freak trying to smash up my place?" Joan demands.

"Yes, I believe it is," Shaffer answers.

Joan just glares at Hank for a moment before turning and disappearing into the back of the store. While they stand there waiting, Amanda's attacker tries inching his way towards freedom but suddenly comes face to face with a very displeased blue furry mutant. Before anything happens, Joan returns with a VHS tape in her hand and hands it over to Shaffer.

"Is there someplace we can view this?" Shaffer asks.

"Yeah, there's TV and player in the break room," Joan answers,

Still not looking happy, she takes them back down the hall past the bathrooms and Amanda can see that there's an exit out the back at the end of the corridor. Before they reach that door, Joan leads them into a small room with a rickety looking table, a few wobbly chairs, a beat up looking couch, an ancient microwave and an old TV with a VCR that looks like it's one of the original models. They all crowd into the tiny room and Joan goes to the TV and turns the thing on. She retrieves the tape from Shaffer, sticks it in the machine, rewinds the tape and then they watch the assault on Amanda. When they get to the part where Amanda hits the man in the groin, all of the men wince.

It takes every ounce of control Hank possesses to keep The Beast from emerging and ripping this guy limb from limb. After watching the tape, the two officers turn to face the man who tries to make a break for it only to find a mass of snarling angry blue fur standing in his way. Luckily for the man, McDuff and Shaffer get to him before Hank can turn him into lunch meat and The Beast roars in frustration.

"Do you want to press charges?" Shaffer asks Amanda.

"Yes," Amanda replies.

"Then I'll need you both to come down to the station to give your statements, if you don't mind," Shaffer states as he gets the tape and McDuff reads the attacker his rights.

"Very well," Amanda agrees before turning to go

"Of course," Hank adds as the officers start to drag the man out of the small room

"Aren't you going to arrest him?" Joan demands, pointing at Hank again.

"Ma'am, was anything really damaged or are you just taking your prejudice against mutant kind out on one mutant who knocked over a table and chair and spilled a couple of cups of coffee?" Shaffer questions.

"You saw the mess," Joan nearly yells.

"We saw a table and a chair on the floor and a lot of coffee spilled, but I didn't see anything that was irreparably damaged," Shaffer replies.

"But…but…," Joan stammers.

"Ma'am, I have better things to do than deal with your personal prejudices," Shaffer tells her. "Now, unless you have actual proof that Ambassador McCoy did serious damage to your shop, I suggest you just drop it."

Joan stands there with her mouth hanging open as Shaffer marches past her with McDuff pushing their prisoner in front of him. Hank and Amanda quietly follow in their wake, stepping out of the shop to full on night and a cold wind that quickly chills them to the bone. As luck would have it, the officer's cruiser is parked only a couple of spaces away and Hank opens the passenger door for Amanda. A few moments later, he's sliding behind the wheel and turning the engine over to get the car warmed up. When he looks over at Amanda, the only light available is what's coming through the shop's windows, but it's enough for him to see her stony expression.

"Are you alright?" he asks in concern.

"I'm fine, thank you," she answers in a monotone voice.

"Amanda?" he questions worriedly causing her to close her eyes and sigh.

"Trust me, Hank," she quietly replies.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he inquires.

"When this is all over, we'll talk, but for now, please leave me be," she softly requests.

"If that's what you want, than I shall abide by your wishes," he replies.

"Thank you," she whispers and they sit in silence as they wait for Shaffer and McDuff to lead them to the police station.


	29. The Drive, pt 3

**Author's Notes: **Twelve reviews last chapter! WOO HOO! Thank you Mythigal, maraluch, LovelyLadyJem, LadyOfThePlains, Takerslady, WickedGood, Ratdogtwo, Snape's Opera Rose, oldboy, AngerManagementIssues45, J. Tyler and dog youkai jane. I love all of you guys and please enjoy my next installment of fun.

* * *

Hours later, Amanda and Hank are leaving the police station exhausted, hungry and too tired to speak. They get back in the car and leave without saying a word to each other, just drained from being in such a depressing place. It's not until they're on the highway does he hear her breathing pattern change and glances over at her just as the first fat tear rolls down her cheek.

He takes the next exit off of the highway and finds a deserted parking lot to stop in. As soon as the car is parked, he undoes his belt buckle and then undoes hers. He slides half way across the bench seat before pulling her towards him, holding her in his arms as for the second time in less than twenty-four hours she cries into his chest.

The Beast whimpers in sympathy again as Hank runs his fingers through her hair while she starts to curl up into a ball. He holds her closer, trying to form a type of shield with his body to protect her. They stay like that for some time and he'd gladly stay that way for the rest of whatever despite the kinks he's getting in his back, but eventually the tears do come to an end. A short time later, she regains some of her composure and starts to pull away from him which he regretfully allows despite The Beast's growls.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly, refusing to look at him.

"For what?" he asks, wondering when she let her hair down.

"I got you wet again," she points out as she opens her purse and pulls out a pack of tissues.

"That's alright, the shirt needed to be washed anyways," he gently jokes and she smiles softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Emotionally, I'm drained," she admits. "Physically, my head's throbbing like there's a drummer's convention going on in there."

"Want to talk about it?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that that man wanted to rape me," she tells him a few moments later, staring out the front windshield. "At first I was terrified and then I thought about James and the fact that he was going to do the same thing, the only difference being I wouldn't be able to say in a court of law that it was forced. That's when I got angry and let that miserable jerk have it."

"Where did you learn those moves you used?" he asks. "I must say I'm very impressed and a bit frightened that you were able to take down a man his size."

"Miss Congeniality," she tells him with a small snicker.

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't you see that movie with Sandra Bullock?"

"No, I'm afraid I must have missed that one. Unfortunately, my life seldom allows me have the leisure time to go to the movies."

"It's a very cute movie. Sandra Bullock plays a cop who has to go undercover in a beauty pageant and for the talent section of the competition, she teaches everyone how to S.I.N.G."

"And what exactly is S.I.N.G.?"

"Solar plexus, Instep, Nose and Groin," she explains. "It's a very cute movie, you should see it."

"I'll keep it in mind," he chuckles as he cringes internally. "I have another question for you."

"What's that?" she asks.

"Why wouldn't you look at me earlier?" he questions, managing to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"I learned some time ago that police, judges and juries do not like to watch overly emotional people, especially hysterical women," she answers, staring down at her knees. "I can hold the emotions in for a while, but when the dam breaks, boy, does it break."

"You didn't answer my question," he points out and she sighs as she lets her hair curtain her face from him by looking down further.

"As long as I feel slightly threatened, I can maintain the façade of being in control," she quietly replies. "If I feel safe, then everything just comes apart. When I look at you, I feel safe. I would have been useless if I had looked at you, so I didn't. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"You feel safe around me?" he asks in surprise as he gently brushes her hair out of her face with one hand and even in the low light, he can see her blushing.

"Well, yeah," she smiles shyly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "You are my knight in shining blue fur after all."

"A duty I take with great honor," he softly tells her.

His other hand comes under her chin and lifts her face to look at him and her stomach starts doing flip-flops. His breath brushes against her lips like a warm spring breeze and she can feel her heart pounding against her ribs. She breathes in his scent as his nose gentle bumps hers and her eyes close of their own accord.

**BAM! BAM!! BAM!!!**

"SWEET JESUS!" she shouts as she jumps and he snarls as a bright light is shown in their eyes.

"You can't park here!" a rent a cop who looks barely old enough to drive hollers through the window at them. "Jeez, lady, that's just gross."

"What?" she shouts back, looking down at herself for whatever is wrong.

"Being with that…_thing_!" the kid yells and it takes quite a bit of will power for Hank not to leap out of the car and scare the kid right out of his acne. "What's wrong with you that you have to go out with something like that?"

"That is none of your concern, young man, and I will thank you to mind your own business!" she snaps back, eyes narrowed as Hank moves back into his seat and straps himself in.

"Well, you still can't park here!" the kid shouts again and Hank starts the engine as she slides back into her seat, fastening her own seatbelt a second later.

With a death grip on the steering wheel, Hank pulls out of the parking lot, fighting the urge to go back and chase the snot nosed whelp around the parking lot. A few minutes later, they're back on the highway and they continue to drive on in a tense silence while Amanda casts nervous glances at him. He stares straight ahead, his hold on the wheel never loosening as The Beast screams and howls inside his head.

"Hank, are you alright?" she softly asks several minutes later and he's startled out of his dark thoughts.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," he sighs, seeing the strange look on her face and his shoulders slump.

"More worried than frightened," she tells him. "You looked like you were about to rip that kid's head off at one point."

"I wouldn't have done that," he assures her. "Scaring him until he lost bowel control had crossed my mind, but not murder."

"Good thing you didn't do either," she replies, trying to contain the smile tugging at her lips. "I don't really feel like visiting another police station tonight. Plus I'd then have to bail you out and then having to explain to the media why you were arrested and then I would have to explain to my mother what I was doing in a car alone with you and then my dad would have gotten his shotgun and demanded to know what your intentions with me were. It wouldn't have been pretty."

By the time she finishes he's chuckling and she grins at him as he relaxes.

"Thank you," he says with a sigh. "One would think I'd be used to such treatment by now."

"You should never get used to being treated so horribly," she states firmly and he can see that her smile is gone. "If you do, it means you've stopped fighting for your rights."

"You're right," he admits sadly. "But it seems that some days it's just not worth getting out of bed."

"Is today one of those days?" she asks and he can see her looking rather uncomfortable.

"No, of course not," he assures her, noticing her relaxing with his words. "Not too completely change the subject, but I was wondering something."

"What?" she questions as she tries to ignore the gnawing feeling in her belly.

"Would you go out with me again?" he asks.

"Of course, but I'm not sure when," she answers. "After all, we're both busy this week."

"Actually, I was thinking about right now," he tells her as he starts to change into the slow lane.

"Right now?" she squeaks. "But I'm a mess. I haven't had a chance to do my hair, my makeup must be a disaster and my clothes are all wrinkled. I've got dirt stains on my knees from when I got hit by the Frisbee and I still have this lovely shiner."

"I think you look beautiful," he states as he pulls off of the freeway.

"You think I look…," she sputters. "I don't know if I should take that as a complement or if I should have your eyes checked."

"I suggest the former," he chuckles. "Besides, there is more to beauty than physical appearance, there's also the beauty inside of a person that makes up a part of the whole and you, my dear, are a very beautiful person on the inside. And I must admit that the outside is quite easy on the eyes as well."

"Thank you," she whispers, too stunned to say anything else.

A short time later, they're parked on the street in front of a bunch of shops but she's still too much in shock to really notice. It's not until he opens her door and the cold November air hits her in the face that she really reacts to what's going on. He watches her in concern while he helps her out of the car as she glances at him and gives him a brief smile before looking away as her cheeks redden once more.

"Is everything alright?" he asks while he shuts the car door and then locks the car with the remote.

"Yeah, I'm just a little shocked is all," she answers as he leads a little hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant between all of the shops.

"About what?" he questions while he holds the door open for her.

"No one's every told me I'm beautiful inside before," she tells him as they step into the warm restaurant and the wonderful aromas make their stomachs growl.

"I can't imagine why not," he muses as a small Asian lady bustles up to them and then leads them to a table.

"Probably because I'm as stubborn as a mule, as opinionated as a right winger at a libertarian convention and as argumentative as a five year old who doesn't want to eat his vegetables," she replies truthfully as he holds her seat out for her. "Thank you."

"I find it hard to believe that you're any of those things," he quietly chuckles as he takes his seat next to her.

"You've only known me a week," she points out. "Trust me; I'm every one of those things and more. That's usually what ends my relationships within the first few weeks and that's if they stick around after they find out I refuse to jump into the sack with them until I feel the relationship is stable. Needless to say, there aren't a lot of guys out there who are willing to put up with that."

"I feel sorry for them, but at the same time I'm glad," he tells her as he picks up a menu and pulls out his glasses. "If they had stuck around, you wouldn't be here with me."

"Thanks, but you might be eating those words later," she replies while her cheeks turn a bit redder.

"Speaking of eating, what would you like to order?" he asks as a teenage boy puts a couple of glasses of water in front of them.

"I'm not sure," she answers as she picks up her own menu, trying not to smirk at the sight he presents. "I haven't had a lot of Chinese food before."

"How in the world do you survive in New York without eating Chinese food?" he questions in surprise.

"Frozen dinners don't take as long and I don't have to tip the microwave oven," she responds as she stares at all of the food choices, decidedly not looking at him with those glasses perched on his nose. "I grew up with Mom making dinner every night or there were leftovers. We didn't go out a lot."

"It sounds like you led a rather sheltered life back then," he observes.

"Very sheltered," she replies as she frowns at her menu. "I have no idea what to order. What's good here?"

"Well, I haven't tried everything, but what I have tried has all been good," he answers. "Would you like me to order for you?"

"I guess so," she sighs as she puts down her menu, trying very hard not to giggle at the cute picture he presents.

"Anything I should avoid?" he inquires.

"No food allergies, if that's what you're wondering, though I'm not particularly fond of octopus," she tells him.

"Any particular reason why you don't like that particular cephalopod?" he asks with a smile pulling at his lips.

"Besides the fact that it has the consistency and taste of a rubber eraser?" she counters, her own smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Yes, if prepared improperly, it is rather unappetizing," he admits as he lays the menu down and puts the glasses away. "But when done right, it's actually rather tasty."

"I'll take your word for it," she responds as the woman who showed them their table comes over to take their order.

While he places their orders, she looks around and admires the décor. The walls are painted red on the top half and wood paneling lines the lower half of the walls with a pair of golden pillars against the back wall with a dragon wrapped around one and a phoenix wrapped around the other. Between the pillars is a shelf with a small statue of Buddha on it and a couple of oranges with burning sticks of incense sticking out of them along with other various items in honor to the owner's ancestors.

"So what do you think of the place?" he asks after she's had a good look around.

"I think it's a refuge that been cleverly hidden in plain sight," she answers with a smile.

"How do you mean?" he questions as he takes a sip of his water.

"It's obviously mutant friendly if the way we've been treated is any indication," she replies as she picks up her own water and sits back. "Plus there's the fact that the young man who brought us our waters had red irises and he's not wearing contacts. The couple over there, the man snapped his fingers under the food he's holding in his chopsticks and a small flame burst out of his fingers and burnt the food and the chopsticks to a crisp. The woman sitting with him laughed so hard she actually turned invisible for a moment. Of the two gentlemen sitting a few tables over from them, the thinner gentleman with the gray at his temples reached over to the next table over to get a napkin and stretched his arm about a foot more than it should have been able to go. The larger man sitting with him who's wearing a trench coat and fedora has skin that appears to be made out of orange stone. The lone gentleman in the corner has barely touched his food since he's staring around the place in wonder as if he's never been inside a restaurant before and when he took a sip of his drink he hiccupped and turned completely silver for a second. Should I go on?"

"No, that will do, thank you," he laughs. "You're very observant."

"It's my job," she responds, looking a bit smug.

"Speaking of your job, you said that you were going to be in court this week," he reminds her. "Can you talk about the case your handling?"

"It's just one neighbor suing another," she tells him dismissively. "Nothing Earth shattering."

"What happened?" he inquires.

"Well, it all started when the neighbor that we're suing came over to the client's house and asked if they could trim back some of the branches of the big elm tree in the client's yard," she starts. "Now, by law, any branch that crosses over the property line may be trimmed back to the property line by the home owner. My client didn't see any problem with this so they said to go ahead. Imagine their surprise when they got home from work one day and found that all of the branches had been cut back down to the trunk. They tried to save the tree but in the end, it had to be removed."

"So they're suing their neighbor's because they killed a tree?" he asks. "Isn't this something that could have been settled out of court?"

"It should have been, but the neighbors are fighting this tooth and nail," she continues. "It's not just the tree that the client's are suing for; it's also the mental anguish that the loss of the tree has caused their eight year old son."

"Mental anguish for their son?" he questions, an eyebrow rising higher than the other. "Over a tree?"

"The boy's slightly autistic, has ADHD and has a mild form of retardation," she explains. "The one thing that he loves to do and that he's really good at is climbing and he really loved that tree. In fact, it's because of that tree that they bought that house in the first place. His mother says that he would have literally slept in that tree if she had let him. Now that the tree is gone, the boy has become inconsolable and has started to violently lash out at his parents and his teachers."

"What do your clients intend to do if they win their case?" he inquires.

"Buy a new house with a big tree but this time they'll probably get someplace where the neighbor's aren't so close together," she answers.

"I hope they win the case," he states. "But with you as their lawyer, I don't see how they can lose."

"Thanks, but Mr. Jones is the lead lawyer on this case," she replies. "I'm the junior lawyer so I get to do all the fact finding and information gathering and he gets look good in court."

"Hardly sounds fair," he says, not sounding very happy.

"It's ok, I made a stand with Serena's case and people now know who I am," she assures him. "Sooner or later, I'll be the one grilling the witnesses and there will be a junior lawyer making me look good."

"Still doesn't sound fair," he slightly grumbles.

"It's part of the learning process," she tells him. "You wouldn't expect someone who only just knows the basics of wood working to start making violins would you? No, they have to study with a master first and after many years of practice does the apprentice become a master himself."

"Ah, I see," he replies with a nod as the food arrives. "Ah good, I'm starved."

"So am I," she replies as she starts to help herself to some of the food. "It looks and smells wonderful."

"You shall not be disappointed," he assures her while filling his own plate.

"Ok, I've got a slight problem," she states as she looks around her plate.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"I don't have a fork," she answers.

"You don't need a fork," he tells her. "You have these."

She stares at the pair of long thin bamboo sticks he holds in his hand with a combination of worry and horror.

* * *

Cyber cookies to anyone who can guess who the other patrons in the restaurant are. 


	30. End of the Ride

**Author's Notes: **Cyber cookies go to: asp, WickedGood, J. Tyler, AngerManagementIssues45 and juju; Honorable mentions go to for getting four out of the five: YoginiGal, Takerslady and Sorceress Eternity and thank you Snape's Opera Rose, LadyOfThePlains and Mythigal for your reviews. It was in fact the Fantastic Four and the Silver Surfer I was going for. The young man isn't Gambit. I do intend to bring him in, but not until the end of the story.

* * *

"You can't be serious," she states, sounding less than thrilled.

"Well, unless you intend to eat with your fingers…," he suggests waving the pair of chopsticks in front of her.

"At least then I can guarantee that the food will actually make it into my mouth and not into my lap," she retorts, unable to take her eyes off of the pieces of bamboo he's holding and starting to lean away from them.

"It's not that hard," he gently chides as he scoots his chair closer to hers.

"Sure, if you grew up using them," she counters, still moving away from those little pieces of wood as if they're about to bite her.

"Here, I'll show you how to use them," he states.

He catches her right hand with his left and then carefully places the chopsticks in her fingers. He spends the next couple of minutes teaching her how to hold the chopsticks, his large hand easily engulfing her smaller one as he guides her to picking up a piece of chicken and then helps her get the morsel to her mouth. But it really doesn't matter what he's telling her since her brain is currently taking a vacation. The warmth of his hand on hers, the feeling of his breath on her cheek and neck and his heady scent are overwhelming her senses and she can't think straight.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he teasingly asks, completely oblivious to what he's doing to her on the inside.

"Not with you guiding my hand," she answers after his words finally sink through the fog that's engulfed her brain.

"I'm sure you'll do fine once I let go," he assures her as he starts to pull back.

"There's a problem if you do that," she warns, causing him to pause.

"What's that?" he inquires.

"I'm not ambidextrous," she smiles as she wiggles the fingers of her left hand at him.

"You could have reminded me sooner," he grumbles playfully as she snickers.

"I refuse to be the only one blushing at this table," she retorts with a smirk.

"Who says I'm blushing?" he huffs, knowing perfectly well that's exactly what he's doing.

"Oh, so your skin turns a darker shade of blue and your fur slightly bristles at random times just for the fun of it?" she teases and he can feel his face heat up even more. "In fact, it looks like your blushing even harder now."

"And here I had thought my fur was hiding that," he quietly admits, a bit ashamed as he stares down at the table, unable to look her in the eye.

"It does a bit and it took me a while to realize what was going on, so for a stranger I'm sure they'd never notice," she assures him. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you."

She lays her left hand over his right which is still holding her other appendage and gives it a gentle squeeze. He looks up into her eyes and feels so drawn to them that he unconsciously starts to lean closer to her. His free arm circles her shoulders and he pulls her closer to him. His lips draw nearer to hers and then something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye.

He turns in time to see the guy who flambéed his food earlier hastily putting his phone away and there is no doubt in Hank's mind that it was one of those damnable camera phones. He glances at the other patrons who are all pointedly ignoring them with the exception of the guy in the corner who's openly staring at them in fascination. With a sigh, Hank sits back and notices Amanda staring right back at the man in the corner in an almost challenging manner.

"Come, my dear, dinner is getting cold," he says softly as he takes the chopsticks out of her right hand. "And if that man is who I think he is, you're not likely to win a staring contest with him."

"How do you know if you won't let me try?" she asks as she turns to gaze at him, a smile on her lips. "I've been known to make snakes blink."

"Because there is little that frightens or fazes that man and snakes don't have eyelids," he answers, an amused look on his face. "Now, let's see if you can put what you've learned with your right hand can be taught to your left."

For the next several minutes he tries to teach her how to use the chopsticks again, but it's much more difficult than before since he can't quite manage to guide her hand like before. He watches as she finally manages to pick up another piece of chicken, this time on her own and watches excitedly as she starts to bring it up to her mouth only for the chopsticks to slip a few inches shy of her mouth and send the food flying through the air to land on the next table over. It takes every ounce of control he has and a good deal of cheek biting to not laugh while he does his best to ignore the snickers from the other tables. He quickly takes her chopsticks away when he sees her about to stab her food with one of them.

"That's considered a great insult in Asian countries," he tells her, trying to keep a straight face.

"And I suppose letting a person starve is perfectly ok," she grumbles, starting to sulk as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"You won't starve," he assures her as he expertly picks up his own chopsticks and then easily catches a shrimp with them. "Even if I have to feed you myself."

He holds out the morsel for her and just glares back at him.

"I'm a little old to be fed by someone else," she huffs as she leans away from him.

"So much for being romantic," he quietly mumbles as he pulls back.

"It would be if we didn't have an audience," she mutters back.

He turns to see four of the other patrons quickly turn back to their dinners as the solo diner continues to watch them curiously. The young man who brought them their waters earlier approaches their table, his pink eyes dancing merrily with suppressed mirth. He puts a fork down next to Amanda's plate and she smiles up at the teenager.

"Thank you," she says, relief very evident in her voice as she picks up the utensil.

"Weren't your eyes red earlier?" Hank asks him.

"Yeah, but they change color with my mood," the teenager replies. "Great mutation, huh? I have mood rings for eyes."

"It could be worse," Hank replies. "You could shed on the furniture."

"You got me on that one," the young man smiles. "Enjoy your dinner, folks."

With that, the teenager goes to quickly clean up the table next to theirs and they turn their attention back to their dinner, ignoring the other people in the room who go back to their own meals with the exception being the lone man in the corner.

* * *

"So, what did you think of dinner?" he asks as they step out of the restaurant into the bitterly cold air.

"It was delicious," she answers just before giving a little burp and hastily putting her hand over her mouth. "Excuse me. I don't think I'm going to eat again for a week."

"We'll see about that in about an hour," he jokes as they head towards the car.

Just as Hank unlocks the car, the lone man from the restaurant exits and looks at them briefly. Amanda frowns at the strange male as she quickly notices she can't see his breath like she can see hers and Hank's. The man briefly nods to them and then turns his attention to the overcast sky.

"My board, to me!" the man commands in a deep ethereal voice.

He drops the façade, turns completely silver, his clothes melding into him so that it appears that he's completely nude. Amanda can't help herself as she looks down at a certain part of his anatomy only to notice that there's nothing there and she starts to blush furiously when she realizes what she's doing. A second later, a silver streak zips past them and the man easily jumps onto it, shooting off into the night like a silver bullet.

"Was that…?" she squeaks several seconds after he's gone.

"Yes, I believe it was," Hank replies as he opens her door. "I always wondered where Norrin got off to when he wasn't saving the world or exploring it."

"Does that mean the other four were…?" she tries to ask, still staring into the sky.

"Yes, they were," he answers while he gently steers her into her seat. "Does that surprise you?"

"Well, to tell the truth, yes," she responds, finally turning to look up at him.

"Did you think they just sat around in the Baxter Building waiting for their services to be called upon?" he asks as he leans against the side of the car.

"Well, no, but I never thought I'd see them in a little hole in the wall Chinese restaurant," she answers. "Though I'm curious why they weren't sitting together."

"One of the great mysteries of life that will probably never be answered," he tells her as he steps back and closes the door.

"You know, it seems weird sometimes," she muses as he gets into the car. "I see these people in the news all the time and I hear about their heroic deeds, so I kind of guess that I forgot that they're just people like you and me."

"Yeah, just like you and me," he softly agrees with a smile and she smiles back.

They drive off in companionable silence for a while and it's not until she starts giving him directions to her apartment building that he gets the courage up to say what's on his mind.

"I know that this coming week is very busy for the both of us, but I was wondering what you're doing this coming weekend," he says, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I'm packing," she tells him.

"You're packing for your vacation a week early?" he asks. "I've heard of being prepared, but don't you think that's taking it a bit far?"

"Not that type of packing," she laughs. "I'm packing to move."

"You're moving?" he questions, feeling his stomach sink down to his toes. "Where to?"

"Yeah, I found a better apartment in a better neighborhood," she answers and his spirits lighten. "It's a bit more expensive, but I feel I can afford it and I think I deserve to live someplace nice, especially since this place only has one bedroom and I won't feel this silly need to get a roommate."

"Where will the new apartment be?" he inquires, feeling a bit better with the news that she'll be living alone.

"It's on E 64th Street between 1st and 2nd Avenues," she tells him.

"You're kidding," he blurts out in surprise.

"Um, no, that's where I'm moving to," she replies a bit nervously. "Why?"

"I live on E 65th Street near 3rd Avenue," he chuckles.

"You're kidding," she echoes in shock.

"No, I'm not," he laughs, a feeling of delight lifting his spirits to the sky.

She directs him to turn down her street and a few moments later they're parked down the block from her apartment building. They sit there in silence for several moments, neither exactly sure what to do now that they've reached the end of their journey, neither one of them really wanting it to end. While the thought of making out like a couple of hormonally charged teenagers does cross both of their minds, the rational part of their brains does finally take over.

"It's a little hard to wrap my brain around the idea that we're about to be neighbors," she says, finally breaking the silence.

"When are you moving?" he asks.

"First weekend in December," she answers.

"If you need any help…," he starts.

"I couldn't ask that of you," she interrupts.

"You're not, I'm offering," he points out, turning to look at her.

"Then I gratefully accept," she replies, unable to hide her smile and she can feel her cheeks heating up again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replies.

"It's getting late, I really should be getting inside," she says sadly. "I'm sure you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

"I'll be in meetings all day," he grumbles. "I wonder why I bother sometimes."

"If you don't like it, why don't you quit?" she asks.

"I ask myself that almost every day," he answers. "But I keep thinking that maybe, just maybe, I'm making a difference and if I am, then it's best if I stay right where I am."

"How do you know if you are?" she questions.

"This is one of those things that may not bear fruit for years, but I am a patient man, so I'll stick it out for now," he replies. "Who knows, maybe all the bigots in the world will suddenly come to their senses and we call all live harmoniously."

"That would be nice," she responds and then lets out a yawn. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Well, it is late and I think we should be seeking our beds now," he states as he opens his door.

_Mate?_ The Beast asks hopefully.

_Hush, you,_ Hank tells it sternly

"You're right, it's been a long day," she agrees as she opens her own door.

She gets out of the car as he retrieves her bags from the trunk and a moment later they're standing on the sidewalk facing each other.

"May I have the honor of escorting you to the door?" he requests.

"I would be delighted," she answers.

He offers her his arm and she gladly slips hers through his. They walk at a sedate pace, despite the cold, though she figures that the heat radiating from his body could probably keep her warm in the middle of a blizzard. Despite their slow stroll, they find themselves at the door all too soon. They stand there awkwardly not quite able to look at each other for several seconds until he puts her bags down on the ground next to her.

"Thank you," she says, looking a bit nervous and her cheeks a brighter shade of red than the cold can be blamed for.

"You're welcome," he replies. "It wasn't any trouble at all. It's not like you packed a lot."

"Oh, not that, well, I mean that too," she rambles as she's sure her heart is about to burst out of her chest it's pounding so hard.

"Amanda," he quietly says.

"But thank you for everything, dinner, last night and tonight and for taking care of me when I got nailed by that Frisbee…"

"Amanda," he softly calls.

"…and letting me cry on you, last night and tonight, and waking me up when I had that nightmare and trying to come to my rescue when that jerk tried to drag me off and…"

"You're rambling," he interrupts after putting a silencing finger on her lips.

"Am I?" she asks nervously as he lowers his hand. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to start rambling. I don't normally ramble. I'm usually very calm and level headed…"

"You're rambling again," he tells her, his finger on her lips once more.

"Sorry," she mumbles around the finger.

"It's ok," he assures her as he steps closer and slips his other arm around her waist. "I'm going to remove my finger and then I'm going to kiss you. Is this alright?"

Her eyes get bigger as she quickly nods and he moves the aforementioned digit so that he can gently cup her cheek with his hand. He swallows his nerves and tries to ignore the fact that he's probably going to have a heart attack at any second if the pounding of his heart is any indication. He moves his face closer to hers and he can feel her hands on his waist grabbing fistfuls of his jacket. Her breath comes in short, warm pants across his lips and he can smell her excitement. He's not sure who's trembling harder, him or her, but when he hears a strangled squeak he stops millimeters from her lips.

* * *

Ok, after you've said nasty things about me, my parentage, my ancestry and quite possibly my descendents, please leave a review. 


	31. Good Night

**Author's Notes: **Thank you to my twelve reviewers: Mythigal, Lady of the Plains, juju, J. Tyler, Takerslady, Snape's Opera Rose, Ratdogtwo, LovelyLadyJem, asp, AngerManagementIssues45, maraluch and Momma Tom. So, my muse has been flooding my brain with ideas of upcoming chapters and I decided to jot them down. This story is going to be looooooooong and in fact it looks like there's going to be at least a three story arc, possibly four if I break this story into two pieces. We'll have to wait and see, but the good news is that there's going to be lots of Hank and Amanda goodness in everyone's future. At any rate, please enjoy the latest installment of frustration.

* * *

"What was that?" he asks as a frown wrinkles his forehead and she lets her face drop to his shoulder with a groan of frustration.

"That was my soon to be dearly departed best friend," she growls, her voice slightly muffled by her face being buried into his jacket.

His frown deepens as he stares at the side of her head for a moment before looking around. It takes him only a second to spot the man she had had dinner with the previous week standing only a short distance away. The tall, thin man's light blue eyes are about the size of saucers and he has both hands over his mouth which he drops slightly when he notices Hank looking at him.

"Oh, I'm not here, you don't see me, just go back to what you were doing," the man instructs in a high strung and fast voice and then he gives out another strangled squeak before covering his mouth again.

"Amanda, there's a man here telling me he's invisible," Hank quietly whispers in her ear and she can feel goose bumps forming all over her body.

"When I'm done with him, he'll wish he was indestructible too," she grumbles as she finally lifts her head up to look at Hank and sees him trying not to smile. "This is not funny."

"I'm as frustrated as you are, my dear, but I don't think beating up your best friend is going to solve anything," he softly chuckles.

"I'm not going to beat him up," she corrects. "I'm going to kill him."

"I really wish you wouldn't," he replies, barely containing the smile threatening to escape. "I don't really feel like visiting another police station tonight. Plus I'd then have to bail you out and then have to explain to the media why you were arrested and then I would have to explain to your mother why I was the one baling you out and then your dad would go get his shotgun and demand to know what my intentions with you are. It won't be pretty."

"Well, when you put it that way…," she snickers and they stand there smiling at each other, both completely forgetting Doug is standing only a few feet away.

"Well, I guess I should get going home," he says quietly couple of minutes later.

"Yeah, I should get in out of the cold," she softly replies.

They continue to stare at each other, neither one willing to be the one to move first.

"Oh for god's sake, just kiss the woman and be done with it," Doug cries in exasperation.

Hank glares at the other man just as Amanda presses her body against his, wraps her arms around his waist and kisses him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she whispers in his ear. "For everything."

"You're welcome," he softy responds as his arms tighten around her and he buries his face in her hair.

For a brief moment in time, the world stands still and nothing else matters but listening to each other breathe. They gladly stand there in the freezing cold as she leans her face against the soft fur on his neck and he lets out a contented sigh. Neither one seems interested in moving until she feels someone messing with her purse. She instinctively reacts, yanking the bag out of the would be thief's hands only to find Doug standing there.

"What are you doing?" she demands.

"Listen, if you two want to stand out here and freeze your butts off that's fine with me, but I'm going in where it's warm," Doug answers in a huff as he tries to pull her purse back towards himself and then he sees her face. "Oh my god, what happened to your eye?"

"I got hit with a Frisbee," she tells him as she tries to slap his hand away. "Let go of my purse, Doug."

"That's going to take about a gallon of concealer to hide that shiner," Doug blurts out, refusing to let go of her bag.

"Thanks a lot," she growls as she attempts to pull her handbag from her friend. "Now let go."

"I'm freezing," Doug whines while hanging on. "Just let me go inside and then you two can do whatever you want. Hug, kiss, have hot wild animal sex, I don't care, but I'm freezing."

"I believe the lady asked you to let go," Hank says in his deep voice with a hint of danger in it, sending chills up and down her spine.

He reaches out and pinches Doug's wrist between his thumb and forefinger and looking for all the world like he's barely touching Doug. Doug lets out a little whimper as his hand goes completely numb and he has no choice but to let go of Amanda's handbag. After the bag is safely out of reach, Hank finally lets go and Doug immediately starts rubbing his wrist, flexing his fingers and shaking his hand to get feeling back in it.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," Hank says congenially as he holds out the hand that was just pinching Doug's wrist. "I'm Hank McCoy. Sorry about the wrist."

"Doug Jacobson," Doug replies and hesitantly shakes Hank's hand. "Don't worry about the hand. I'm sure I'll get feeling back in it someday."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Hank smiles as he gives a gentle, but firm handshake. "Amanda has told me quite a bit about you."

"Hopefully nothing that could be used against me in a court of law," Doug jokes.

"I refuse to answer that on the grounds that she may never go out with me again," Hank chuckles.

"Again?" Doug asks, turning towards Amanda with his eyebrows threatening to merge with his hairline. "Oh, sugar, you're going to have to tell me everything."

"Don't hold your breath, buster," she growls. "Be glad I don't drop kick your skinny little butt down the street. What are you doing here anyways?"

"I was just checking to see if you had made it home alright," Doug answers, pretending to get huffy. "And this is the thanks I get for being a concerned friend."

"Yeah, right," she snorts. "You're just trying to mooch one of my sundaes off of me."

"Ok, there was that too," Doug admits, not looking the least bit ashamed. "But I was a bit concerned. I haven't heard from you since early this afternoon and you should have been home hours ago and do you even think to call me and let me know you're alright? Noooo, you just let me worry away. After all it's no big deal if you turn my hair gray umph."

"Are you sure I can't kill him?" she asks Hank, her hand over Doug's mouth.

"I'm sure," Hank replies, a smile tugging on his lips.

"Can I at least rough him up a bit?" she questions.

"Only if you don't leave any marks that can be used as evidence," Hank answers.

"I guess that just leaves mental anguish," she sighs.

"What exactly would that entail?" Hank inquires, an eyebrow rising higher than its brother as she leans in close to him.

"I won't tell him what we did this weekend," she whispers in his ear and it takes every ounce of will power to keep his all of his available blood heading south.

"Wait! What did you just tell him?" Doug demands after pulling her hand away from his mouth.

"That might be construed a cruel and unusual punishment," Hank points out as she grins evilly.

"Prove it in a court of law," she snickers as she steps back and leans over to retrieve her bags.

"What did she say?" Doug begs of Hank who pays the other man no mind.

"Then I guess I shall bid you goodnight," Hank tells her as he takes one of her hands in his while she straightens up. _"Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow."_

"Oh, how sweet," Doug sighs as Hank kisses the back of Amanda's hand and she can feel her blood rushing to all sorts of interesting places. "What's that from?"

"Romeo and Juliet," Hank answers without ever taking his eyes off of Amanda's face.

"How romantic," Doug gushes at Amanda. "He's quoting Shakespeare to you…from a play…where the main characters…kill themselves."

"Goodnight, Hank," she says with a smile, ignoring Doug for the time being. "Thanks again, for everything."

"It was my pleasure," Hank replies, smiling back at her.

They continue standing there staring at each other while Doug watches them until the frustration gets to him.

"Of for crying out loud, just kiss her and then we can all go inside and get warm," Doug practically yells and the other two turn and glare at him. "Uh oh."

"Maybe I should help you dispose of the body," Hank suggests as he calmly reaches out and grabs the back of the collar of a desperately retreating Doug.

"As tempting an offer as that is, I think I'll just stick with the mental anguish plan," she replies as her hand replaces Hank's and she gives Hank a quick peck on the cheek. "Goodnight, Hank."

"Goodnight, my dear," Hank responds as he gives her a kiss on the forehead and then starts to slowly head back to his car.

"Can't breathe," Doug gasps as Amanda drags him towards the front door of her apartment building.

"Good, then you can't make a bigger ass out of yourself," she snaps while they go through the door.

Hank stops and watches them for a moment through the glass as she drags him to a bank of elevators and pushes the call button. Even his hearing isn't good enough to hear what they're saying at this distance, but he can guess that Doug's getting an ear full. With a quiet chuckle, he turns back towards his car and starts walking again.

_Mate_, The Beast growls. _Mine_.

"Let's hope that someday that will be true," Hank quietly tells it as he gets behind the wheel and heads home.

* * *

"I hope you're happy," she snarls as she drags Doug backwards through the lobby while the guard briefly looks up before going back to his comic book.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Amanda, you're overreacting," he grumbles as he undoes the zipper of his jacket for what little good it does him since she has hold of the back of his shirt as well.

"You haven't even begun to see me overreact," she snaps as the elevator 'dings' its arrival and she shoves him into the small box.

"Jeez, woman, calm down," he gripes as he hastily readjusts his clothing after she releases him. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

"What do you think?" she demands.

"Alright, I'm sorry I ruined your goodnight kiss, sheesh," he grouses as he brushes imaginary dust off of his sleeve.

"It wasn't just any kiss you interrupted," she hisses as she backs him against a wall and jabs her finger into his chest, punctuating each word with a poke. "It was supposed to be our first kiss."

"Oops," he cringes.

"To say the least," she growls as the elevator reaches her floor.

"Oh, sugar, I'm sorry," he calls as she storms down the corridor to her apartment. "I had no idea."

"Obviously," she snaps back as she fishes her keys out of her bag.

"Wow, you've never been this ticked about not getting a kiss before," he observes as he quickly slips into her apartment before she slams the door in his face.

"I know and it's got me worried," she admits as she heads for her bedroom with him on her heels.

"How so?" he asks as she drops her bags on her bed.

"I've never, ever wanted a guy to touch me so bad in my life," she admits while she plops down on the bed next to the bags. "What's wrong with me? I'm not usually this psycho about a guy."

"You're in love," Doug states as he unzips her overnight bag. "Did you bring me anything?"

"What are you, five?" she teases as she slaps his hands away and gets back up. "I went to upstate New York, not the Bahamas. And I can't be in love, in lust is more like it."

"Why can't you be in love?" he asks while she starts to unpack.

"I've only known him a week," she points out as she goes to dump her dirty clothes in the hamper. "Hardly a steady foundation to build a relationship on."

"Hey, woah, where did this come from?" Doug demands as he grabs her new dress out of the pile headed for the hamper.

"I bought it while on my trip," she answers as dumps the rest of her clothes into the wicker basket.

"And why would you need to go and buy a little black dress while on a visit to a teenage friend?" he questions, a teasing note in his voice. "A _girl_ friend, I might add. And how is it that Ambassador Hank McCoy drove you home?"

"Hank was up at the mansion visiting when I got hit by the Frisbee and since my eye is nearly swollen shut, he offered to drive me home," she replies as she holds her hand out. "Give it back now please."

"Did you wear it?" he inquires, dancing around the room, holding the dress by its straps just out of her reach.

"Yes, but I'm not going to tell you why or when or where," she responds, her hands planting themselves on her hips.

"WHAT!?" he shrieks as he freezes in place in shock. "But…but…but…"

"It's late and I'm tired," she tells him as she retrieves her dress from him. "Goodnight, Doug."

"But details," he whines. "I need details."

"Not going to happen," she points out as she turns him around and pushes him out of her room.

"This is for interrupting your kiss isn't it?" he pouts while she shoves him to the front door.

"Got it right in one," she replies as she opens the door and pushes him out into the hallway. "Goodnight, Doug."

Before he can respond, the door is shut and locked in his face. He huffs, crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the portal, waiting for her to open back up. Ten minutes later, he finally gets the hint and goes home while she climbs into bed and tries not to think about the things she'd like a certain blue, furry man to do to her.

* * *

"Morning, Betty," Amanda greets as she steps through the door the next morning.

"Morning," Betty replies without looking up from her newspaper. "So, you planning on making this a habit?"

"Making what a habit?" Amanda asks in confusion.

"This," Betty states as she holds up the newspaper to show pictures of Hank and Amanda dancing on their date.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Amanda moans as she steps up to the receptionist's desk.

"You can have it if you want," Betty offers. "I'm done reading it, but you have to answer one question first."

"What's that?" Amanda asks.

"How did you find out Mr. Tight Pants goes commando?" Betty demands.

"One of the girls at Serena's school decided to play a practical joke involving his underwear and discovered that he doesn't have any," Amanda answers as she takes the paper and starts to head for her desk. "God, I hope my parents never see this."

"What happened to your eye?" Betty asks in concern.

"Frisbee," Amanda distractedly replies as she heads for her office, reading the captions below the pictures.

* * *

In Boston a coffee cup shatters against a wall, sending coffee and ceramic shards everywhere. A man with a giant green and purple bruise on his face tears up a section of newspaper in a pique of rage. As soon as he's got his anger under control, he's on the phone to his lawyer.

* * *

Several hours later a distinguished gentleman sits down to his morning cup of tea and a scone and opens the newspaper. Several pages in, he finds pictures of a certain Ambassador dancing and having dinner with a certain Sapien lawyer and rather sinister smile stretches his lips.

"How delightful," the man chuckles low in his throat.


	32. Carnival

**Author's Notes I:** Thank you Takerslady, LovelyLadyJem, theNightEnchantress, halleyjo (a belated thank you for all of the other reviews you've left) and J. Tyler.

* * *

"Are you serious?" Audrey asks, her eyes about the size of golf balls.

"I tell you the man has hands as big as a catcher's mitt and god are they strong," Doug replies with a knowing smirk. "I wonder if he has a gay brother."

"I wonder if that old wive's tale is true about a man's hand size is in relation to his…," Maggie starts.

"Don't even go there, Maggie, and sorry, Doug, Hank's an only child," Amanda states as she finishes taping up the latest packed box. "Are you guys here to help me pack or are you here to gossip about Ambassador McCoy?"

"Why can't we do both?" Audrey teases getting the others to snicker.

"I think I'll go work in my room," Amanda mutters as she pushes the finished box into the spare bedroom.

"What's the fun in that?" Doug yells after her. "We can't tease you if you're in another room."

"Exactly," Amanda retorts just as the phone rings and she goes to answer it in the kitchen.

"So, is he as hairy as he seems on TV?" Maggie asks Doug as soon as Amanda is around the corner.

"Probably even hairier," Doug snickers.

"I wonder if you get can rug burn having sex with him," Maggie quietly muses and the other two start giggling madly.

"Gives a whole new meaning to 'a hunk of burnin' love'," Audrey snickers and they all collapse in a fit of laughter just as Amanda returns with a strange look on her face.

"I'll be right back," Amanda tells them as she grabs her keys and then heads out the door.

"What do you suppose that was all about?" Maggie asks.

"Not a clue, but it's no fun to tease her if she's not here," Doug grouses. "Guess we'll just have to wait until she gets back."

The other two murmur their agreement before they go back to packing up the DVD collection, books, pictures and knick knacks in relative silence. Several minutes later they turn and look at the front door when they hear it being opened, all of them getting ready to resume their teasing. A second later, Amanda opens the door and the person who follows her in leaves the others with their jaws hanging open.

"Hank, these are my friends, Audrey and Maggie and you've already met Doug," Amanda says as they step into the living room with Hank right behind her. "Everyone, this is Hank McCoy."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ladies," Hank greets, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Good to see you again, Doug."

"Hi," Audrey manages to squeak out as Maggie just waves hesitantly.

"Amanda, you didn't tell me Hank was coming to help," Doug finally manages after several moments of awkward silence.

"Until about five minutes ago, I didn't know either," Amanda admits and Hank quietly chuckles behind her.

"I found myself with a free day, so I thought I'd come and help," Hank admits looking over at Amanda. "I hope you don't mind me just showing up unannounced."

"No, not all, the more the merrier," Amanda replies, a slight blush tingeing her cheeks.

"Excellent, where would you like me to start?" Hank asks.

"I think the kitchen would be a good start," Amanda tells him and leads him to that room.

"Did see the size of his feet?" Maggie quietly gasps as soon as the other two are around the corner. "I wonder if it's true what they say about a guy's shoe size being equal to his…"

"I can assure you, my dear, that's just an old wive's tale," Hank calls from the kitchen, stunning the three in the living room.

"Wonder what those old wive's tales say about sharp hearing," Doug mutters under his breath after several moments of shocked silence.

A few minutes later, Amanda emerges from the kitchen and heads toward her bedroom not even bothering to glance at her friends. Doug starts collecting the CDs for packing and then gets a wicked idea. Ever so quietly, he selects a disc, slips it into the CD player and then presses 'play'. A few seconds later, the music starts and a man's voice starts to sing.

_You see me mowin' my front lawn  
I know they're all thinkin' I'm so  
White and nerdy_

_Think I'm just too white and nerdy  
Think I'm just too white and nerdy  
Can't you see I'm white and nerdy  
Look at me I'm white and nerdy  
_

Amanda comes flying out of her bedroom with a look of horror on her face. She dashes across the room and hits the 'stop' button with probably a bit more force than really necessary. She then turns on Doug who has a grin on his face that's showing way too many teeth to be innocent.

"I thought we should have some music to dance to," Doug says, trying to play innocent and failing if Amanda's scowl is anything to go by.

"I was unaware that you were a 'Weird' Al fan, my dear," Hank muses from the doorway of the kitchen.

"Yeah, she has all of his CDs and I believe she even has an autographed Poodle Hat around here somewhere," Doug cheerfully tells him.

"I knew I should have killed you last week," Amanda snarls before sulking back to the bedroom.

Doug happily turns the CD player back on and dances around the living room while he collects things off of her shelves to pack into his box. Hank chuckles to himself and returns to the kitchen to continue packing the cookware that almost never gets used. Audrey and Maggie snicker and bounce along to the music as they fill up their own boxes.

* * *

"…and that Pomeranian has never been the same since," Doug states garnering a laugh out of everyone except Amanda who is busily trying to disappear under the table.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Hank chuckles as Amanda tries to slide further under the table of their booth.

"The Humiliate Amanda Hour has been brought to you by Three Dead Friends Productions," Amanda grumbles from her prone position.

"Oh, don't be silly, girl," Audrey snickers. "We haven't been humiliating you for the past hour."

"Yeah, we've been doing it all afternoon," Maggie laughs as Doug and Audrey snicker along with her and Hank bites the inside of his cheek, feeling bad for the lady by his side.

"Thanks, that makes me feel sooooo much better," Amanda huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

"So, what do we do now?" Audrey asks, pushing her plate away.

"Let's see, we've packed up Amanda's apartment," Maggie starts to list.

"A day early thanks to Hank," Doug adds.

"We've now eaten enough pizza and beer to feed a football team," Maggie continues as Audrey lets out a very unlady like belch. "We've decided that there aren't any movies that we can all agree on and none of us feels up to shopping."

"Says you," Doug pouts.

"So, what can we do?" Maggie asks, ignoring Doug.

"I'm going home, taking a shower and then crawling into bed where I intend to sleep until I have to go to my parent's house," Amanda announces as she finally sits back up.

"Don't be silly," Audrey scoffs with a wave of her hand. "It's Saturday night and we have nothing to do, so let's find something to do."

"Like what?" Doug asks as he drinks the last of his beer.

"I've got it!" Maggie announces, slamming her hand on the table and making everyone jump. "The high school near my place is having a fund raiser carnival this weekend at a nearby park. We could go there, eat lots of junk food, ride questionably safe rides, get sick and waste our money all in the name of a good cause."

"That sounds great!" Audrey cheerfully replies.

"Count me in!" Doug adds.

"Great, you guys have fun puking, I'm going home," Amanda grumbles as she tries to slide out of the booth to find her way blocked by Hank.

"It does sound like fun," Hank says and she looks up into those blue eyes and nearly loses it right there.

"Throwing up sounds like fun?" Amanda asks, an eyebrow arching upwards.

"No, but a carnival has more than greasy food and rides, there are also games," Hank answers.

"Which are rigged," she points out.

"It's to help the high school," he counters.

"Which only a fraction of the proceeds really go to," she responds.

"Please," he requests and she instantly folds.

"Fine," she sighs, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

The other three watch the exchange in silent fascination and look at each other with knowing looks once Amanda caves in. After deciding how best to get to the high school, the five of them leave the pizzeria and head for Hank's and Maggie's cars. About half an hour later, they're walking through the gate into the park and are assaulted by the sights, sounds and smells of the carnival.

"All right, you three, we'll meet back here at closing, ok?" Amanda shouts above the cacophony of the rides, music and screaming.

"Yes, ma'am," the other three yell in unison and a second later they're disappearing through the crowd.

"Shall we?" Hank suggest as soon as they're out of sight.

"I guess," she replies with a shrug.

"Is anything wrong?" he asks as they slowly wander through the throng of people, ignoring the dirty stares that Hank garners.

"You mean other than spending the last several hours of my life having my supposed friends tell every embarrassing story of my life from college onwards to a man I like and respect?" she grumpily responds. "Oh, yeah, I'm peachy."

"Let's not forget the poodle hat," he chuckles. "You don't really have a poodle hat signed by 'Weird' Al do you?"

"It's a baseball cap that says 'Poodle Hat'," she explains. "It's the title of one of his albums and yes, it's signed."

"Ah," he replies with relief. "So what would you like to do now?"

"Go home, take a shower and crawl into bed," she answers. "I don't even want to think about all of the sore muscles I'm going to have tomorrow."

"Is something else the matter?" he questions, noticing her continued lack of good humor.

"It hasn't been a very good week," she admits, looking down at the ground.

"The court case?" he inquires.

"That, among others things," she replies.

"What happened?" he asks.

"Remember how I said that the kid that liked to climb the tree is autistic, slightly retarded and has ADHD?" she questions.

"Yes," he answers.

"Well, the neighbors claim that the reason that they cut down the tree was because they believe that the kid is actually a mutant and they feared for their teenage daughter who's window one of the branches went right up to," she tells him. "They said that they were afraid that this eight year old kid was going to jump into their daughter's bedroom and do God knows what to her. Never mind that the daughter has a black belt in tae kwon do, easily outweighs the kid by double and is almost never home. They were sure this kid was a threat so they cut the tree down. We had to have someone come in and draw blood from this little kid so they could test it and prove that he's not a mutant. The poor kid didn't completely understand what was going on and was very upset about having a needle stuck in him and we all had to watch."

"Didn't you say that you have a rather strong dislike of needles?" he inquires.

"That's putting it mildly," she grumbles as she wraps her arms around herself for comfort. "I'm surprised that I didn't faint or go running from the courtroom screaming at the top of my lungs. As it was, I was pretty much useless for the rest of the day."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he tells her as he casually looks around the area they're walking through.

"Thanks," she mutters, not letting go of herself.

"Come on, I think I know something to cheer you up," he says as he puts his hand on the small of her back and gently steers her through the crowd.

A couple of minutes later she's staring up at an incredibly tall poll with a bell at the top. She watches idly as a big teenager, about the size and weight of a Mack truck picks up a large mallet in both his hands, swings it over his head and slams it down onto the target in front of him, sending the ringer up the poll towards the bell, but not quite reaching it. There are a lot of cries of sympathy for the guy and as soon as the teenager and his girlfriend leave, Hank pushes her towards the device.

"You can't be serious," she says, looking at him like he's lost his mind.

"Very," he replies with a small smile on his lips.

"I don't think I can even lift the mallet, much less ring the bell," she points out.

"That's alright, I wasn't expecting you to," he tells her as he holds his money out for the man running the booth and the man eyes him suspiciously.

"You can play, but you can use only one hand," the man states moments later, still not taking the money.

"Agreed," Hank nods and the man hesitantly takes the money and then hands over the mallet. "You might want to stand out of the way, my dear."

Amanda hastily moves out of the way as Hank takes a solid hold of the mallet with one hand. After making sure she's safely out of harms way, he swings the mallet over his head and slams it down on the target. A few seconds later, the bell rings quite loudly but instead of the expecting cheering one would normally hear; there's dead silence from the crowd. Hank ignores them as he hands back the mallet and points out the prize he wants. Amanda watches the people around them a bit nervously as he returns to her and then starts to lead her away from the area.

"Damn mutants," she hears the man running the booth mutter as they leave and she gives him a cold, hard glare before turning to watch where she's going.

A few minutes later, they're past the crowds and off to the side where there's less noise and it feels like her ears are ringing. Before she has a chance to comment on the relief of the sound of silence, he presents her with a big, blue fluffy teddy bear. She stares at it for a moment before looking at him for conformation and when he nods with a smile, she carefully takes it from him. She can't help but smile at the silly thing before she quickly steps up to him and kisses him on the cheek.

"Thank you, he's adorable," she chuckles as she strokes bear's fur.

"You're very welcome," he replies. "I'm just glad he was able to make you smile. I haven't seen you do that all day."

She bows her head suddenly and hugs the bear to her chest as she takes a deep ragged breath.

"What's wrong?" he asks as he pulls her into his arms.

"It's James," she whispers as the tears start to fall. "He's suing me for the dress I ruined."

"Well that shouldn't be too hard to deal with," he says as he rubs a soothing hand up and down her back. "Just pay him off and be done with it."

"He wants nearly $5,000 for it," she tells him and he suddenly goes tense.

"That dress was nowhere near worth that much," he nearly growls.

"I know and Mr. Steele is being nice enough to represent me in this case," she replies with a sniff. "James wants to drag this into court, I know it, and once I'm there, it's over. God, it makes me just sick thinking about it."

"I swear I won't let him touch you," he states as he holds her closer and she starts to sob into his chest.

_Kill_, The Beast snarls angrily. _Protect mate_.

Hank ignores The Beast and its increasing vocabulary while it continues to rage inside of his head while Amanda wraps her arms around his waist and holds onto him as if her life depends on it, the bear hanging from one of her hands. The need to take her someplace safe, hide her away from the rest of the world and protect her is nearly overwhelming and he knows that those feelings come mostly from The Beast but he's not all that opposed to them accept he's willing to accept the impracticality of it all. They're still standing there some time later after the tears have dried, neither willing to move yet when the others find them. Audrey and Maggie are supporting a decidedly wobbly Doug between them and the man looks distinctly green around the gills.

"There you two are," Audrey grumbles. "We've been looking all over for you."

"What's wrong?" Amanda asks, not quite ready to leave the safety of Hank's arms.

"Doug ate an entire funnel cake by himself and then went on one of those rides that spins you around at speeds just shy of warp factor nine and got sick," Maggie tells them as Doug lets out a burp and a groan. "They had to shut down the ride and clean it. I'm going to take him back to my place and put him to bed in the bathtub."

"What about your cars?" Amanda inquires, still not moving from her spot and Hank's not all that inclined to make her move.

"I'll go back with you two and get my car," Audrey answers.

"I'll drive Doug back to his car in the morning," Maggie puts in.

"So are you ready to go back, Audrey?" Amanda questions.

"Yeah, it's no fun to go to one of these things by yourself," Audrey replies. "But first we've got to get Doug to Maggie's place."

"Alright, let's get going," Amanda sighs as she reluctantly pulls away from Hank.

The other three start to move towards the gate as Amanda hugs her bear to her chest and Hank gently guides her with his hand on her back again. They walk the few blocks to Maggie's apartment and get Doug situated on Maggie's couch with an old tarp underneath him and a garbage can nearby, just in case. Once he's comfortable, Amanda, Hank and Audrey leave and make their way to Hank's car another couple blocks over.

"Where'd you get the bear?" Audrey asks as they all slip into front seat of the car.

"I won it for her," Hank proudly states.

"How sweet," Audrey says, a smile plastered on her face. "Wish I could find a guy who'd win me a bear."

"Maybe someday," Amanda yawns.

"Uh oh, you're going to fall asleep again, aren't you?" Audrey teases.

"Again?" Hank questions as he navigates his car through the narrow city streets.

"I'm trying not to," Amanda grumbles as she squirms around in her seat to try and get the blood moving, but it doesn't help that she's pressed between two warm bodies and it's been a very long day.

"Yeah, if you ever want to put her to sleep, just put her in a car and she conks right out," Audrey tells him.

"Not all the time," Amanda mutters sulkily.

"No, just about ninety percent of the time is all," Audrey points out with a smirk. "The longer the car ride the more likely it is she'll fall asleep."

"I would imagine driving long distances would make you nervous," he says.

"If I'm driving, I have a death grip on that steering wheel and there's no way I'm falling asleep," Amanda replies. "I'm too nervous about the other maniacs on the road."

"Understandable," Hank muses as he turns a corner onto Amanda's street. "Where are you parked, Audrey?"

"Up another block and around the corner," Audrey answers.

Hank follows Audrey's directions and then drops her off at her car. He waits until she's pulled out and then parks in her vacated spot. After turning off the engine, he looks down and sees Amanda leaning against him, her head on his shoulder. While he's thrilled that she didn't scoot over when Audrey got out, now he's in a quandary of what to do with her.

"Amanda, are you asleep?" he softly asks.

"No," she mumbles sleepily.

"You're eyes are closed," he points out.

"I'm checking them for light leaks," she replies and he chuckles.

"Come on, I'll walk you home," he tells her.

Reluctantly she sits up and stretches, the bear still firmly in her grasp and he can feel his blood starting to head below his belt. He tries not to groan as he opens his car door and slides out. She follows him a second later and they head for her apartment building with one of her arms wrapped around his and the bear in a near death grip in her other arm.

"Well, here we are again," he announces when they reach the front door.

"Thank you for everything, again," she says as he turns to face her. "It was very sweet of you to come over and help me pack, put up with my insane friends and win me Blue."

"Blue?" he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, that's what I decided to call him," she proudly states, holding up the bear.

"It's a good name," he agrees as he gently takes the bear from her and pulls her into his arms. "Are you going to start rambling on me again?"

"Not if you kiss me first," she tells him as she wraps her arms around his neck.

"Sounds good to me," he states.

Then he leans down and kisses her.

* * *

**Author's Notes II:** Just so people know, my original plan was to not have them kiss until Christmas. Aren't you glad I changed my mind? Also, if you go onto youtube, and type in 'White and Nerdy' in their search engine, you should get the video to this song. It's very funny and keep an eye open for Seth Green and Donny Osmond.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the rights to _White And Nerdy,_ which is the first song on the Straight Outta Lynwood album. It is a parody of _Ridin'_ by Chamillionaire with new lyrics by "Weird Al" Yankovic.


	33. Goodnight Kiss

**Author's Notes:** Thank you LovelyLadyJem, snape's opera rose, Takerslady, Lady of the Plains, theNightEnchantress, maraluch, mythigal, halleyjo and dog youkai jane for your reviews. Just a little FYI, I've decided to split this story in two, but don't worry about this ending any time soon; we still have to have the big bad come in and do his thing. As always, please enjoy and review.

* * *

Reality no longer exists. She doesn't know if it's hot or cold out or if it's night or day and she's pretty sure she couldn't even tell someone her name if asked for it. All that she's aware of is the warmth of his body, the softness of his fur, his musky scent and his lips.

Dear god, those lips. She could stand there for the rest of her life just kissing those lips and be quite content in doing it. They're warm and soft and she wonders what they taste like. She's not sure what part of her brain sends down the command as it sure as heck isn't the rational part, but the tip of her tongue sneaks out and gently touches his glorious lips.

Before she knows it, his tongue is sliding along hers and a small moan escapes her throat as she holds him even tighter, her hands sinking into his lush mane. He groans in need as the taste of her fills his mouth while his empty hand grabs the back of her head to keep her in place as the other arm holds her even tighter. She can feel his arousal pressing into her hip and she can feel her own body respond to this by heating up the area between her legs. He can smell her and it's driving The Beast crazy as it screams for its mate.

Eventually they have to come up for air and they stand there clinging to each other for support, neither one sure who's trembling harder. She buries her face in his neck, panting for air and he can't say he's doing much better. It's not bad enough that most of his blood seems to be holding a convention in his pants, but it's all he can do not to drag her back to his car and take her in the back seat.

"Hank?" she whispers into the fur on his neck and he's pretty sure that some of his brain cells are heading south now.

"Yes?" he manages to reply in a fairly normal voice.

"Doyouwanttocomein?" she mumbles quickly and he can feel a shiver run up his spine as The Beast howls with pleasure.

"I would love to go in with you," he answers and her body trembles against his making him nearly lose it right there. "But I won't."

"Care to run that past me again?" she asks, pulling away enough to look him in the face while The Beast screams angrily in his head.

"If I go into your apartment with you right now, neither one of us will leave until Monday morning and neither one of us will be walking properly either," he explains as The Beast roars in frustration. "I'd rather not give your father a reason to come after me with his shotgun."

She looks at him with sadness and confusion in her eyes and he gets ready to let her go by loosening his hold on her. He's sure she's going to be upset with him, thinking that he's rejected her and The Beast is going ballistic for him turning down her offer. With a sigh, she lets go of his neck and slides her hands down his chest just before slipping them around his waist.

As he gets over the shock of her not backing away, she lays her head down on his shoulder again. He instinctively holds her close once more and then bows his own head down to bury his nose in her hair. They lean against each other in a comfortable silence, completely oblivious to everything going on around them while they both try to convince their bodies to behave.

"Amanda?" he whispers.

"Mmm?" she hums.

"Does your father really own a shotgun?" he asks.

"Double barrel filled with rock salt," she answers sleepily. "Has a rocking chair on the porch, too."

"I really want to meet your family," he chuckles and she groans.

"Take my word for it, no you don't," she states. "They're certifiably insane."

"I'd rather deal with crazy than mean," he quietly sighs.

"I don't know," she replies. "Mean people you at least you know where you stand with them. Crazy people are only trying to make you as nuts as they are and they'll do anything to drag you down to their level. I'd rather meet your family."

"I think I can handle crazy," he snickers. "The hostility my family presents me every year I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy."

"I can handle hostility, open or subversive," she states. "I deal with it every day at work, so I'm used to it."

"You mean when you're in court?" he questions.

"Actually, court is a lot more relaxed than the office," she confesses.

"Mr. Jones?" he inquires.

"No, Mr. Jones is a sweetheart," she replies. "Mr. Steele on the other hand could use an attitude adjustment."

"Because you are an obvious mutant sympathizer?" he asks.

"Oh, I offended Steele long before it was known that mutants don't bother me," she responds as she shifts more comfortably against his body.

"How so?" he questions.

"You see, I had the audacity to be born female," she explains.

"That's sexual discrimination," he states, his hackles rising and The Beast growls angrily.

"The oldest prejudice in the world and I've been living it my whole life," she points out.

"I'm sorry," he whispers as he holds her tighter.

"I'm used to it," she replies with a shrug.

"But it does leave me to wonder why you would willing go into that situation on your time off," he muses. "I would think crazy would be a nice change of pace."

"Because I'm used to dealing with hostility and I've sort of developed a thick skin against it," she states. "You never know what crazy relatives will do or say just to get a reaction out of you."

"Still, I would prefer the crazy people over the nasty ones," he says.

"If you're trying to weasel an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner at my parent's place, you can forget it," she tells him point blank, backing off enough to look at his face. "I don't hate you enough to feed you to that school of barracudas that I call my family."

"They can't be that bad," he insists with an amused look on his face.

"Ever seen the movie **Meet the Parents**?" she asks.

"I'm afraid not," he answers.

"The whole premise is a young woman brings her boyfriend home to meet her parents," she tells him. "In one scene the father hooks the boyfriend up to a lie detector machine. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if my dad had one hiding out in the barn or garage."

"He can't be that bad," he says.

"HAH!" she scoffs. "You should have seen the hoops he made my brother-in-law go through before he and Annie got married. When Annie announced that she was pregnant, Dad didn't even acknowledge Mike's existence until my nephew was born. He's extremely over protective and Mom's even worse. She's determined to see me married off no matter what. If I take you home with me, don't be surprised if you're frisked for an engagement ring."

"You still haven't dissuaded me, my dear," he chuckles and she groans. "But it is late and I imagine you're quite tired."

"Yeah, it's been a long day," she admits with a sigh.

She reluctantly steps back out of his arms and he hands back Blue which she immediately hugs to her chest and rubs her cheek against its fur. He reaches out and puts a finger under her chin, gently encouraging her to look up at him. She blushes under his intense gaze, but doesn't look away and that lifts his heart almost as high as their kiss had.

"Thank you," he says.

"For what?" she asks, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I haven't done anything."

"You've done far more for me than you can possibly imagine," he tells her.

Then he leans down to give her a quick kiss but before he can get away, she reaches out, grabs the front of his jacket and pulls him back for a longer, deeper kiss. Their tongues dance against each other again as their arms wrap the other and their bodies start to respond again. Shakily, they finally break apart when their bodies demand oxygen.

"At this rate, neither one of us is getting to bed," she gasps as she rests her forehead on his shoulder.

_"We are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded with a sleep..."_ he quotes

"Shakespeare again?" she questions.

"It is," he answers. "**The Tempest** this time. Did you like it?"

"Yes," she replies as she steps back to look at him. "It was pretty."

"Good," he sighs.

"Drive safe," she says and then smirks. "Hopefully you won't be in need of any…_restrooms_…between here and home."

"I think I can hold it," he replies slightly confused for a moment before what she's implying sinks in. "But if I can't, I'll know why."

"Well, as it is, I do need the bathroom," she admits. "Good night, Hank."

"Good night, my dear," he replies as they finally step apart. "If I don't see you before you go to Virginia, have a good trip."

"Thank you," she says. "I hope your family is kinder this time."

"Thank you," he responds. "I hope your family is little less nutty."

"Thanks," she laughs as she hesitantly steps towards the door. "Good night."

"You already said that," he points out as he watches her go.

"Oh, yeah, I guess I did," she says as her cheeks redden and she starts towards the door without really watching where she's going.

"Amanda, look…"

**THUMP!**

"…out."

"Ouch," she moans as she rubs the side of her face that had connected with the door jamb.

He quietly chuckles and shakes his head as he steps over to her and carefully takes her face into his hands. After making sure there's no bleeding and no bones are broken, he softly kisses the bruised area and he can feel her body trembling.

"You know, before I met you I wasn't this big of a klutz," she tells him. "I'm not sure I'm going to survive this relationship."

"You do seem to be a bit accident prone," he replies with a smile. "Luckily you're a quick healer."

"What are you talking about?" she asks as the first signs of a headache coming on start to throb behind her eye.

"The eye that was hit by a Frisbee, it's completely healed now," he answers as he traces a fingertip along the once bruised area.

"Oh, well, that wasn't me," she replies and slightly blanches.

"Do tell," he says, his eyebrows about half way up his forehead.

"The receptionist's brother is a doctor that tries to balance modern medicine with homeopathic remedies and she said that he had a guaranteed way of getting rid of the black eye," she tells him.

"What did he do?" he nearly demands, worried that she might have done something foolish.

"He used leeches," she answers looking a bit sick.

"Leeches?" he asks, nearly laughing with relief.

"I grew up a tomboy, but even I wasn't thrilled with having little, blood sucking slugs on my face," she grumbles. "Luckily they worked or I was going to have to continuously wash my face for a month."

"They're annelids, not mollusks," he corrects and smiles at the scowl she gives him. "Did you know that leeches are the only parasites that don't transmit diseases, unlike mosquitoes, flies or fleas?"

"Fascinating," she replies in a flat voice.

"Well, for me it is," he chuckles and then gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. "You'd better get some ice on that or you'll be making a return visit to the good doctor and his leeches."

"Uhg," she groans in revulsion. "Good night."

"Good night," he replies as she turns and heads inside.

He watches her as she crosses the lobby to the bank of elevators and waits until an elevator opens for her. She glances back, sees him standing there and blushes as she gives him a smile and a small wave. He waves back, continuing to watch over her until the doors close and then he turns to go back to his car, only giving a cursory glance to the security guard who's obviously ignoring him.

* * *

She closes the door to her apartment and immediately heads for the freezer. She fills a plastic bag full of ice, barely putting Blue down in the process. Once that's done, she sits down on the couch to watch the news with Blue on her lap and a bag of ice to her throbbing face. A while later she's staring at the ceiling again, like she was all those weeks ago, completely oblivious to the stories of the atrocities that people are acting upon each other.

"Is he the one, God?" she asks as she absently strokes Blue's fur.

Not surprisingly, there's no answer and with a sigh she gets up, turns off the TV, tosses her half melted bag of ice in the sink and then goes to take a shower. She stands under the hot spray of water, lost in thought, replaying every bit of the times she's been with him. By the time the water runs cold, she can't even remember if she's washed her hair.

She gets out, dries off, dresses and heads for bed, carrying Blue with her. She crawls between the sheets, gets comfortable and hopes that exhaustion will soon put her to sleep. But instead, her long repressed libido replays every second of both of their kisses causing her to moan with need. She tries to think of something else, but it's of no use and it's not until she puts her fist between her legs and relieves the pressure that has built up there that she can relax enough for sleep to claim her.

* * *

_MATE!!_ The Beast screams as he heads for the car.

"If we move to fast, she will run away," he quietly explains, not knowing why he's bothering to try driving some reason into his primal self's head. "Then there'll be no mate."

The Beast growls and hisses at him, but says nothing else as Hank completes his journey back to his car. No sooner is his hand on the door handle then images of Amanda start flashing through his head, some real, some imagined but all of them provocative. Hank groans as his blood starts migrating south again and it's all he can do to get in the car before he collapses due to blood loss in the brain.

It takes him a few minutes to regain control of his libido enough for him to at least start the car. The drive home is less then comfortable as his pants are painfully tight the entire time. Once he's parked, he shrugs off his jacket and carries it in front of him as he heads inside as quickly as possible.

As soon as he's safely in his apartment, he strips everything off and goes to take a shower. As the hot water pours over him, he braces himself against the wall and lets his libido loose. A couple of minutes later he's biting back a howl as the pressure is released and he leans against the wall in relief and some frustration.

He finishes his shower as quickly as he can and then towel dries himself off as best he can before taking one of his towels and wiping the steam from the mirror. He stares at himself, his blue fur damp and tousled and wonders what she sees in him. A small bit of doubt still tries to eat away at his self esteem, but the memories of those kisses and the doubt withers away.

"Is she the one?" he asks himself, staring at his reflection, unflinching.

_Mate_, The Beast purrs.

"I hope so, Beast," he sighs. "I hope so."

Without another word, he gets ready for bed, cautious optimism making his heart beat just a little bit stronger.


	34. Foundations

**Author's Notes: **Thank you Lady of the Plains, LovelyLadyJem,halleyjo, Takerslady, AngerManagementIssues45 and Mythigal for your reviews. I need to work on my other stories, so there will probably be a bit of a wait for the next chapter.

* * *

The first rays of sunlight dance across her face and she moans, realizing that she forgot to close the blackout curtains the night before. She turns over, pulling the covers over her head as she does so and stops when she rolls on top of something. She pulls out the foreign object and it takes her a second to recognize Blue. With a smile, she cuddles with the blue fur ball under the blankets and starts to drift back into dreamland where another blue fur ball awaits her.

**RIIIIIINNGGGG!**

Who in the world would be calling her this early in the morning?

**RIIIIIINNGGGG!**

She cracks open an eye and peeks out from under the bedding at the clock.

**RIIIIIINNGGGG!**

With a groan, her hand sneaks out from under the covers and retrieves the phone from the nightstand.

"'ello?" she mumbles sleepily.

"Good morning, Miss Simon," the security guard greets way too cheerfully. "There's a Mr. Jacobson and a Miss Meadows here to see you. They have coffee and donuts."

"Krispy Kream?" she asks.

"That's what the box says," he answers.

"Fine, send them up," she grumbles and then hangs up the phone, snuggling back under the covers figuring she's got a couple of minutes of more sleep before she has to get up.

**BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! **

Muttering a few expletives that would surely have her mother running for a bar of soap, Amanda throws back the covers and stumbles out of bed. She gets to the front door just as the banging starts again. She unlocks the door and then turns around, headed to the bathroom, ignoring the sound of the door opening behind her.

While she's in the bathroom, she can hear her 'guests' moving around her apartment and she knows they're checking her bedroom for any additional bodies in her home. A few minutes later she emerges and finds them sitting at the kitchen table with the box of donuts already open, a couple of donuts already missing and plates set up for all of them. She eyes the coffee cups and an eyebrow rises higher than the other.

"Four cups of coffee?" she questions as she takes her cup and sniffs. "Were you expecting someone else or are one of you looking to be extra jittery this morning?"

"Oh, uh, that, well, we thought that maybe Audrey wasn't feeling up to driving last night and crashed on your couch," Doug hastily replies with a smile that can't possibly be innocent.

"Bullshit," she shoots back while she takes her seat and starts adding fake sugar to her drink. "You two were hoping to catch me with a certain ambassador in my bed."

"Well, can you blame us?" Maggie demands. "It's about time you actually found a guy that sets your nether regions to tingling."

"He doesn't set my 'nether regions to tingling' and even if he did, it wouldn't be any of your business," Amanda growls, scowling at the other woman.

"So, did you finally get your first kiss?" Doug hastily asks before a catfight breaks out.

"No thanks to you, yes, he finally kissed me," Amanda grumbles, starting to sip her coffee now that it's cool enough to drink.

"So, what happened after that?" he excitedly inquires, coffee and donuts forgotten.

"We talked, I walked into the door jamb and then I went inside," she states as she selects a donut from the box.

"What did you talk about?" he grills, just about going crazy with curiosity, but knowing to not get too pushy.

"Our families mostly," she answers calmly before taking her first bite.

"Ok, stop teasing, just tell us what happened," Maggie demands irritably, winning a full blown glare from Amanda.

"It's none of your business," Amanda states before standing up and heading for her bedroom, coffee and donut left sitting on the table.

"Great going," Doug hisses as soon as they hear the bedroom door nearly slammed shut. "What did I tell you? Keep your mouth shut and I'll get her to talk. But no, you just had to say something. I told you that she wouldn't be sleeping with him yet, but you just had to get that fourth cup of coffee."

"And what if she had invited him up?" Maggie growls back.

"Then we wouldn't have even gotten to the elevators," he shoots back. "I swear, Mags, you really need to learn this little thing called tact."

"She could just tell us what happened," she snaps.

"You know as well as I do that she's not as 'liberal' talking about her love life as you are," he points out. "Listen, I'm going to try and calm her down. Why don't you get going?"

"Because I don't want to," she replies, sitting back in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You plan on apologizing to her for your behavior?" he asks.

"No," she huffs. "Why should I?"

"Because it was rude," he replies. "If you want to save this friendship with Amanda, I suggest you make yourself scarce until she's ready to talk to you again."

"She should learn to just get over herself," she grumbles.

"And you should learn to be sensitive to other people's feelings," he retorts.

"She shouldn't be such a prude," she shoots back.

"And you shouldn't be acting like a busybody," he counters. "Thanks for driving me over, but you really should get going now."

"Fine, whatever," she angrily grumbles as she grabs her purse and coat before storming out of the apartment.

With a sigh and a shake of the head, he gets up and heads towards Amanda's bedroom, quietly knocking on the door when he gets there.

"Amanda, can I come in?" he asks.

"Yeah," is the muffled reply.

He opens the door and finds her sitting on her bed with her back against the headboard, Blue in her arms and her curled protectively around the bear. Doug walks in and sits on the edge of the bed facing her. They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, him watching her and her refusing to meet his eyes.

"Want to talk about it?" he questions quietly.

"I feel like a slut," she softly admits.

"You care to run that past me again?" he inquires after letting her words sink in for several seconds.

"He kissed me and then I invited him in," she moans as she drops her head down onto her knees. "I'm a slut."

"Ok, you invited him in, but he's not here now," he observes. "What happened?"

"He said 'no'," she quietly replies, burying her face in Blue's fur. "What if he doesn't really like me? What if I'm just another woman?

"Sweetie, in order to qualify to be a slut you have to have sex more than twice in a decade," he points out. "And I have a feeling Hank McCoy isn't like the other guys you've dated. I've watched the way he looks at you and if I'm any judge, he's very interested in you."

"If my parents knew I even had sex that often, calling me a slut would just be the beginning of the words they would use," she mutters.

"I thought your parents were wannabe hippies," he states in confusion.

"You see, that's why they're only wannabe hippies," she tells him. "They're very much against the whole 'free love' thing, especially when it comes to their daughters."

"Amy, you lived with Bobbi for six months and if you want a definition of a slut, she's it," he states. "Hell, she's the poster child for Sluts 'R' Us."

"But I still asked him in," she groans.

"And he said 'no'," he reminds her. "What would you have done if he had said 'yes'?"

"Dear God, I don't even want to think about it," she whimpers.

"So, he does set your 'nether regions to tingling', huh?" he gently teases.

"No," she growls. "He sets my whole body on fire. God, Doug, what am I going to do?"

"Well, you can do what you normally do and keep him at arm's length until he gets sick of it and leaves," he says. "Or, you can embrace the fact that you've found someone who treats you like you should be treated and excites you all at the same time."

"I don't know," she groans. "I'm so confused."

"Love is like that," he states. "It's confusing, frightening and exhilarating all at the same time."

"It wasn't like that for Annie," she replies. "Or for my parents."

"That's them, this is you," he points out. "No two relationships are going to be the same. Trust me, I know."

"You still miss him?" she asks, suddenly changing the subject.

"Every second of every day," he answers. "On plus side, at least I know I'll be with him soon."

"Don't say things like that, please," she begs, reaching out and grabbing his arm. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You know that I'm on borrowed time, sweetie," he reminds her as he pats her hand.

"But science…," she starts.

"Hasn't found a cure yet and the way things are going, I doubt that they'll find one in time," he interrupts and he can see her slipping into a deeper funk. "And now that I've depressed us both, let's go get some real breakfast. I hear that there's this great place over on 66th near where you're moving. Might be a good idea to start checking out restaurants in that area."

"I don't know," she mumbles, not really in the mood to deal with people.

"I hear they've got the best coffee," he tells her.

"Their coffee is really good?" she asks, already feeling herself starting to cave.

"Very good," he assures her.

"I guess…," she mutters.

"Good, you get dressed and I'll go take care of the mess in the kitchen," he tells her as he pries her fingers off of his arm.

With that, he slips off of the bed and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. She sits there for a little longer, rubbing her face against Blue's fur for comfort. Finally, she crawls off of the bed and goes to find some clothes for the day. By the time she comes out, the box of donuts is closed and off to the side, the plates are in the dishwasher, the now cold coffee has been poured down the drain and the cups tossed out.

"Oh, good, you're ready," he cheerfully states with a smug look on his face. "Bring your drawings. I want to see what you've done this week."

"Ok, what have you got up your sleeve?" she demands with narrowed eyes.

"My arm," he happily answers. "Come on, let's go. The food isn't getting any fresher."

Before she can object, he shoves her purse into her arms, drapes her jacket across her shoulders, grabs the satchel she keeps her pad and pencils in and herds her out the door.

* * *

Hank stares at the blank notepad in front of him and sighs in frustration. He's been staring at it on and off all day and still nothing comes to mind. He knows he should have been working on this stupid speech yesterday, but he couldn't concentrate knowing that Amanda was home and he couldn't resist seeing her again. Of course, it doesn't help that she seems to be invading his every waking moment and his sleeping ones have been rather busy too.

_Mate_, Beast purrs and Hank can start feeling his blood starting to head south again.

"Stop that," he admonishes his primal self and concentrates on Logan in a skort again.

Beast hisses in displeasure and goes back to its corner grumbling and growling all the way as his blood returns to where it's supposed to be. With a sigh of relief, he stares at the notepad once more and taps his pen in irritation. He's getting sick of writing speeches to a bunch of blowhards who don't even listen, but it's his lot in life and if he can get through to just one of them, it'll be worth it.

**RIIIIIINNGGGG!**

Thankful for the distraction, he gets up to answer the phone. He doesn't recognize the number on the caller ID, but that's not too unusual and he picks up the phone anyways.

"Hello?" he greets.

"Hank?" a man's voice asks.

"Yes, who is this?" Hank replies.

"Hi, it's Doug," Doug greets.

"Doug?" Hank inquires, a bit perplexed.

"Doug Jacobson," Doug clarifies. "Amanda's friend."

"Oh, right," Hank responds. "How are you feeling? The last I saw you, you weren't looking to well."

"I'm fine thanks," Doug replies.

"Might I inquire as how you got my phone number?" Hank asks as he leans against the kitchen counter.

"Well…um…I kind of copied it off of the piece of paper Amanda has it on," Doug admits, embarrassment evident in his voice.

"Does Amanda know that you've done this?" Hank questions.

"Of course not," Doug responds. "I know I shouldn't have done it and I know you have every right to hang up the phone after calling me several nasty names, but I really need to talk to you."

"About what?" Hank inquires.

"Amanda and I were talking earlier and she feels really awful about last night," Doug tells him. "As her best friend, I feel it's my duty to try and protect her."

"Oh really," Hank replies, barely keeping the growl out of his voice and he can feel Beast stirring in the back of his mind.

"Listen, Amanda hasn't had a great track record with guys and the couple of guys that she's let get close to her really hurt her," Doug explains. "I don't want to see her hurt again."

"I see," Hank says, holding onto his anger with a firm hand.

"No, I don't think you do," Doug replies sadly. "Every time she's been hurt, it's been with relationships that took a very long to develop. She doesn't go diving into relationships head first; she always takes her time to build a foundation. But with you, it's been different. She's crazy about you and that makes me happier than you can possibly imagine, but it's also got me worried. If things between the two of you don't work out, I'm not sure I'll be able to help her pick up the pieces this time."

"Ah, I think I understand now," Hank states. "I assure you that the last thing in the world I would want to do is to cause her any pain. Women aren't exactly beating down my door, so to find someone like her is a rare gift and I intend to treat her with the utmost care."

"I'm glad to hear that," Doug sighs in relief. "I'll let you go now. I'm sorry if I disturbed anything."

"No, just trying to write another speech," Hank admits.

"Oops, I hope didn't disturb your train of thought," Doug replies regretfully.

"No, I'm afraid the train hadn't even left the station yet," Hank chuckles. "Though, you may have given me an idea on what to write."

"I did?" Doug asks excitedly. "Cool!"

"Indeed," Hank laughs. "But I'm afraid I must be going now."

"Oh, right, sorry," Doug replies quickly. "Goodnight, Hank."

"Goodnight, Doug," Hank responds and hangs up the phone.

Hank returns to his seat, picks up his pen and begins to compose his speech on building strong foundations for good relations.


	35. Thanksgiving

**Author's Notes: **Thank you Snape's Opera Rose, asp, LovelyLadyJem, Takerslady, Sorceress Eternity, halleyjo, theNightEnchantress, AngerManagementIssues45, Mythigal and J. Tyler for your reviews.

* * *

She tries to shake some feeling back into her fingers as she warms her hand in front of the space heater next to her. She rolls her shoulders to relieve the cramping and attempts to find a more comfortable sitting position on the small stack of moth eaten blankets she was able to find. Once her fingers are sufficiently heated, she picks her pencil back up and starts drawing again.

She concentrates on getting the shape of her nephew's nose just right, ignoring the urge to look back at her drawings of a certain blue and furry ambassador. She pays no mind to her fingers getting cold again or the fact that her butt is going numb from sitting with little between her and the cold, hard floorboards. She doesn't care about her discomfort or the loneliness or even the fact that the camping lamp's battery will eventually die, all she cares about is regaining some of her sanity by hiding from those loonies she calls a family.

* * *

An errant draft blows out the candle again and with a resigned sigh, he puts down his book on the floor below him. He's lost count of how many times he's relit this candle and granted having an open flame in the old drafty barn may not be the best place to bring it, but he doesn't dare turn on the electric lights since that would instantly tell people where he's wandered off to.

"Face it, man, you're hiding from them," he growls at himself as he hangs there in the cold and dark. "You can take on Magneto himself, you can out think and out debate any politician you meet, but you can't face your own family. What would she think of you?"

He quickly finds the lighter sitting next to the candle and relights it, thankful that the rafters above the hay loft of the barn are low enough for him to do this. He glances over at his cell phone, lying there next to the candle and the desire to just hear her voice starts to get to him again. It's been nearly a week since he's talked to her and that was only to wish her a safe trip. He hangs there upside down from the rafters staring at his phone, wondering how much of a problem it would be if he did call her.

* * *

She stretches to relieve the kinks all over her body and to get some blood flowing through her limbs again. She gives out a groan of relief as she arches her back and several of the vertebrae pop and she can feel some of the knots in her back easing. With a sigh, she picks her pencil back up, but before she can put it to paper her phone rings causing her to just about jumps out of her skin. She quickly fishes it out of her pocket and answers it, not bothering to notice the phone number on the ID.

"Hello?"

"Oh, Amanda, hi," says a very familiar voice.

"Hank? Oh my god, how are you?" she asks. "Wait, aren't you supposed to be having Thanksgiving with your family?"

"Well, yes, but dinner isn't for another hour yet," he tells her.

"So, why aren't you spending time with them?" she inquires.

"I'm actually surprised that you answered your phone," he suddenly states. "I would have thought your mother would have confiscated it by now."

"With nearly forty people in the house, my mother is happy to be able to tell you which way is up and get it right," she replies. "Now, sir, kindly answer my question."

"So, how is your crazy family doing?" he asks in a congenial tone.

"You are so not turning this around on me, mister," she warns. "I'm not saying another word until you answer my question."

"That's being a bit childish, don't you think?" he questions.

Silence.

"Amanda?"

He can hear her breathing, but still she says nothing.

"You're serious about this aren't you?"

After about a minute of dead quiet, he caves.

"I'm hiding in the barn avoiding my family and I called because I wanted to hear your voice," he finally admits quickly and he can feel the skin on his face warming up.

"You wanted to hear my voice?" she asks in surprise. "Oh, Hank, that's so sweet. And you want to know something?"

"What?" he questions, feeling like a school boy.

"I'm hiding in my parent's barn avoiding my family, too," she embarrassingly admits.

He laughs so hard that he loses hold of the rafter he's hanging from and falls down onto the floor, neatly somersaulting into a sitting position.

"What was that thump?" she inquires worriedly.

"Oh, um, I just, um, well, I fell out of the rafters," he admits.

"What in the world were you doing in the rafters?" she asks.

"Oh, just hanging around," he tells her with an unseen shrug.

"What, like a bat?" she teases.

"Essentially, yes," he answers.

"Great, my boyfriend is hanging in the rafters like a giant, blue furry bat," she chuckles as she shakes her head.

"Boyfriend?" he whispers in shock.

"Well, aren't you?" she asks worriedly, thinking that she's read his signals wrong.

"My dear, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be your beau," he hastily answers, a feeling of absolute joy filling him.

"Oh, good," she sighs with relief.

"So, now are you going to answer my question?" he inquires.

"What question was that?" she responds.

"How is your crazy family doing?" he repeats.

"Loony as ever," she answers.

"How so?" he questions as he gets comfortable.

"Well, now that I'm thirty, the women in my family are about frothing at the mouth that I haven't married and started popping babies out like I'm some sort of machine," she replies. "I swear if I hear any more about the joys of motherhood from the cousin who's making babies almost as fast as a rabbit, I'm going to stuff a dirty diaper up her nose. Heaven knows I'll have my pick since she's got three kids in them and there are a couple of other kids here that are also in the hideous things."

"That include your pagan cousin?" he asks, loving the insanity of her family.

"Not yet," she tells him. "She's six months along and she's not sure who the father is. It could be her husband or it could be one of her boyfriends. She's not sure."

"Did she bring one of her boyfriends this time?" he inquires.

"No, she brought one of their girlfriends instead," she responds. "I've taken to wearing earplugs at night."

"I so want to meet your family," he chuckles and he's pretty sure he can hear her growling at the other end of the line. "Well at least you get to give your nieces and nephew enough sugar to send them into diabetic comas before sending them home."

"No, I don't," she grumbles. "It seems my dear sister got wind of our pictures being on the internet. Since dear old Mom only goes on the computer to keep her recipes in order and to check and send email, she hasn't seen them yet. My darling sister walked into the house earlier today, dragged me off to the side and threatened to show Mom the pictures she had printed up off the web if I so much as feed a single grain of sugar to her kids."

"Now that's just cruel," he commiserates.

"Tell me about it," she nearly growls. "If she wasn't my sister, I'd sue her for mental anguish."

"You know, she'd probably say the same thing," he points out.

"You're not helping," she snarls.

"Sorry," he says, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.

"So, how's your family?" she asks.

"Cranky as ever," he answers. "Unlike your mother, mine has more than a passing knowledge of the internet and has seen the pictures."

"Oh dear," she moans in commiseration.

"She wants to know if you'll be coming out for Easter," he tells her. "I'm not sure how to answer that yet."

"Why not Christmas?" she inquires, sounding slightly hysterical.

"She and Dad will be in Hawaii for a month as their annual Anniversary-Christmas present to each other," he replies.

"Nice," she says, wishing a tropical breeze would blow through the old barn.

"Very," he agrees. "So how about it? Would you like to come to my parents' for Easter?"

"Oh…um…well…uh…"

"THERE YOU ARE!"

"SWEET MARY, JOSEPH AND JESUS!" Amanda shouts as she tries to catch the phone she accidentally threw into the air and Hank listens from his end with much amusement. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Annie!?"

"You need to have a heart before you can have an attack," Annie snarls at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Amanda demands.

"It means I've spent the past fifteen minutes freezing my backside off looking for you," Annie growls.

"Ok, you've found me," Amanda states. "What do you want?"

"Dinner's getting cold," Annie tells her and then spots the phone in her sister's hands. "Who are you talking to?"

"Here, say 'hi'," Amanda instructs as she hands the phone over before standing up.

"Um, hi?" Annie nervously says.

"Hello, Annie," a rich, cultured man's voice responds while Amanda puts her art supplies away. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Annie replies, still a bit jumpy. "And you?"

"I'm doing very well, thank you," the man responds and Annie puts her hand over the mouth piece.

"Who am I talking to?" she demands in a fierce whisper as Amanda turns off the space heater.

"Only the US Ambassador to the UN, Hank McCoy," Amanda calmly tells her and it takes every bit of will power not to laugh as her sister turns white as a sheet.

"EEP!" Annie squeaks, dropping the phone which Amanda easily catches since she was waiting for it to fall.

"I need to get going now, Hank," Amanda states after putting the phone to her ear and Annie suddenly turns tail and runs.

"What just happened?" Hank asks, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice.

"Remember how I said Annie and I are complete opposites?" she questions.

"Yes," he answers.

"Well, she's very shy around people and the more important the person, the shyer she becomes," she explains. "I just guaranteed at least ten minutes of silence from my sister. Hopefully she'll get distracted before she comes to her senses and tells Mom what I did."

"That wasn't very nice," he admonishes with a chuckle.

"Yeah, but I'm the evil one according to her, so I might as well live up to the hype," she jokes. "However, I really do need to get going."

"Yes, I should probably return to my own family as well," he sighs. "Happy Thanksgiving, Amanda."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Hank," she replies. "I'll call you when I get home."

"I shall count the minutes," he tells her and she can feel her face turn bright red. "Goodbye, my dear."

"Goodbye, Hank," she answers before reluctantly closing her phone.

With a sad sigh, she slides her phone back into her pocket, slings her satchel over her shoulder, picks up the lantern and heads for the door. She leaves the turned off lantern near the barn door and makes her way across the yard in the quickly growing gloom of twilight. Even as far away as the barn and with all of the doors and windows shut she can hear the gentle mummer of talking interrupted occasionally by laughter. With a grimace and a groan, she steps up onto the back porch and opens the door.

"What did you do to your sister?" Cathy demands before Amanda can even shut the door.

"I didn't touch her," Amanda automatically replies.

"No, you just scared her speechless again," Cathy growls, eyes narrowed. "Must you always act so childish?"

"Depends, Mom," Amanda replies, trying desperately to remain calm. "When are you planning on treating me like an adult?"

Before Cathy can do more than open and close her mouth a couple of times, Amanda goes off to find her seat. It's right where she expects it to be, at the kid's table.

* * *

Days later, she trudges through Penn Station, barely even aware of the other travelers around her. She's tired, sore and just wants to go home and collapse. Sleeping for the next month wouldn't be a bad thing in her book; unfortunately, it's not likely to happen.

When she feels someone starting to pull on the straps of her bags, she instinctively grabs the straps, let's out a startled yelp and spins around to face her assailant. She's greeted with a blue smiling face and she's not sure if she should hit him or kiss him. Deciding the later will be much more fun, she jumps into his arms and kisses him soundly. He's surprised at first, but quickly recovers and returns the buss while his arms hold her close.

"I'll take this to mean that you're glad to see me," he pants when they finally come up for air.

"Hi," she gasps as she buries her face into the fur on his neck.

"Is everything alright?" he asks after they've been standing there for a couple of minutes.

"It is now," she whispers and he holds her just a little bit tighter.

"As much as I loathe letting you go, we can't stay here," he tells her several more minutes later.

"Why not?" she grumbles, pulling herself closer to him.

"Well, for one thing, people are beginning to stare," he points out.

"Let 'em," she mutters.

"They're taking pictures," he adds.

"Good, it'll give the receptionist at work something to look for in the paper tomorrow," she tells him, still not moving.

"Really, my dear, I must insist that we start moving," he says as he gently, but firmly removes her arms from his neck. "I really have no desire to be on the 10 o'clock news."

She looks at him questioningly as he pulls her bags off of her shoulders before looking around and seeing a camera man and a female reporter headed towards them. Before she can say anything, he turns her around and quickly steers her through the crowd of travelers. A few minutes later, her bags are in the trunk of his car and they're pulling away from the curb.

She glances over at him and if the look on his face is any indication, he's not happy about something. She quietly sits on her side of the car staring at her hands as he weaves his way through Sunday evening traffic. By the time he's pulled over to the curb again, it's taking every ounce of her will power not to lose it.

"Amanda, are you alright?" he asks, concern tinting his voice.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, not able to look at him.

"For what?" he inquires, now confused.

"For my behavior," she states, still staring at her hands. "I just jumped you without even bothering to see if you wanted me to kiss you and then I wouldn't let go when you asked me too and…"

"You're starting to ramble again," he gently teases.

"Sorry," she mumbles.

"My dear, when I become disenchanted with your attention on my person will be when you should check me for a pulse," he tells her in a mater of fact voice as he puts a finger under her chin and guides her face up so that she'll look at him. "I doubt I will ever tire of you 'jumping' me."

"Then why were you so upset?" she asks.

"Remember the reporter that was headed our way back at the station?" he questions.

"Yeah," she replies.

"That was my ex-girlfriend from college, Trish Tilby," he tells her.

"Ok, that would have been a whole world of ick if she had caught up to us," she admits.

"To say the least," he agrees with a sigh and she gets a shy expression on her face.

"You really don't mind me touching you?" she questions as she reaches up and caresses the back of the hand under her chin.

"I think I should be the one asking that question of you," he states as he leans over and softly bumps her nose with his own.

She says nothing, but slightly tilts her head back in invitation which he gladly accepts as his lips claim her own. Seatbelts are quickly unfastened and he pulls her towards him as the kiss deepens. She's halfway into his lap by the time she comes up for air and she doesn't care in the least that her mother would have a fit if she saw them.

He can smell her arousal and the little moan she gives out as he starts to work his way down her jaw towards her ear just about does him in. He can hear and feel Beast encouraging him on and he's not very inclined to disagree with his primal self at this point as her head rolls to the side so that he can gain access to her neck. He brushes her hair out of the way before starting to suckle on her neck and she lets out a little whimper as she presses herself further against him. He releases a soft, possessive growl just as one of his hands works its way under her jacket and suddenly her body stiffens.


	36. Dinner with Doug, pt 1

**Author's Notes: **A big thank you to LovelyLadyJem, theNightEnchantress, Takerslady, Fublepaws, Lady of the Plains, Oscar (please do your homework first), AngerManagementIssues45 (killing me will get you no more chapters) and asp for your reviews. Keep 'em comin' and I'll keep writing.

* * *

"Please tell me that clock is wrong," she begs and it takes his brain several seconds to register what she's said.

"What clock?" he finally asks as he tries to force his libido back to normal.

"The one on the dash board," she states as she pushes back a bit. "Is that the correct time?"

"It's fairly accurate," he replies as he reluctantly lets her go. "Why?"

"Oh God, Doug's going to have a fit," she moans while she finally gets herself off of his lap.

"Why is Doug going to have a fit?" he questions, trying to keep Beast from taking over as she pulls away from him.

"I'm supposed to meet him for dinner in a few minutes," she explains while readjusting her clothes and he can feel his heart sinking. "If we hurry we'll only be a little late."

"We?" he inquires, hope returning.

"Unless you don't want to," she hastily states, embarrassed by her assertiveness once again. "I mean, I can understand, Doug's my friend and I can completely understand why you wouldn't want to have dinner with him and me, but we have this thing set up where we meet and have dinner every Sunday night when we're both in town and umph…"

"I would love to have dinner with you and Doug," he tells her when he finally releases her from the kiss he used to stop her rambling. "Where is the restaurant?"

"A…a….a few blocks that way," she stammers as she shakily points down the street, her brain still spinning after that last kiss.

"Since your apartment is between here and there, why don't we drop off your bags on the way, ok?" he suggests as he reaches down for the trunk release.

"O-o-ok," she agrees, still a little light headed and he can't help but smile as he gets out of the car.

She quickly checks her makeup in the visor mirror as he goes to get her bags out of the trunk. Just as she's reaching for the handle, he opens the door and offers her his hand. He helps her out of the car and then gently guides her along the nearly deserted sidewalk with his hand on the small of her back. Once they reach her apartment building, she takes all but one of her bags from him.

"I'll be right back," she tells him.

Before he has a chance to point out that she has forgotten one of her bags, she disappears into an elevator. When she returns a minute later, he holds it out for her and she smiles at him as she takes it and slings it over her shoulder. She immediately starts down the street, setting a brisk pace.

"I called Doug and let him know that we're going to be a little late," she tells him as he easily falls in step with her. "I also told him to get us a table for three. He's looking forward to humiliating me some more, just so you know."

"You don't seem very upset about that," he states, watching her curiously.

"I have my ways of extracting revenge on Mr. Doug," she smirks.

"Does this include bodily harm or mental anguish?" he asks, chuckling.

"Oh, more mental anguish of the cruelest kind," she snickers.

"Do I even want to know what you have planned for the poor man?" he inquires, torn between commiseration with a fellow male and laughter at her apparent glee.

"Probably not," she tells him.

"Playing up the 'evil twin' again, I see," he chuckles.

"Hey, what can I say?" she questions with an evil grin. "I'm a lawyer."

Before he can respond to that, she indicates that they've arrived at the restaurant and he immediately opens the door for her. They easily spot Doug in the back and weave their way through the tables, ignoring the open stares, and in some cases glares, of the other patrons. Doug stands to give Amanda a hug and Hank a handshake before Hank pulls out a chair for her to sit.

"So, how was your trip?" Doug asks Amanda.

"Oh, worse than usual," she replies. "You should have seen Mom at church this morning. She introduced me to every unattached male there ranging in age from just out of high school to nearing retirement age. You'd think her life depended on me getting married."

"You know she just wants to see you happy," Doug tells her.

"She wants more grandkids and she's willing to do almost anything to get them," she grumbles.

"You know if you just told her about you and…," Doug starts to say.

"No!" she interrupts. "I refuse to have that mad woman harassing Hank every chance she gets."

"Oh, come on, she can't be that bad," Doug tries to convince her.

"Need I remind you about Easter a few years ago?" she asks, eyebrows raised and lips pursed.

"Oh god, no," Doug moans as he closes his eyes and a shudder runs through his body. "I had put that experience out of my mind, thank you."

"What happed at Easter a few years ago?" Hank inquires and Doug groans as he leans forward and bangs his head on the table.

"Doug was going through a bit of a rough time and I didn't want to leave him alone," she explains. "So I brought him to my parents' place for Easter which is very similar to Thanksgiving except that the weather is warmer and I can escape for longer and I can get farther away."

"So, what happened?" Hank questions; dying of curiosity.

"Now keep in mind I did tell my mother that Doug is just a friend," she states and Doug finally lifts his head.

"Didn't help though," Doug grumbles. "The instant I walked in the door you would have thought that I was the second coming of Jesus Christ. And when Amanda and I _finally_ made it clear to them that I don't swing that way, you'd think I'd become a leper. They were civil enough, but they all had this attitude like we were playing some nasty trick on them or something. Not something I really needed right then. We came back to New York a day early because of it."

"Now do you understand why I don't want to put you through that?" she asks Hank.

"Yes, my dear, I do, but since I do swing that way, I doubt they'll treat me like a leper," Hank replies.

"Being treated like the second coming isn't much better," Doug warns him. "You can't even take a leak without someone following you around, seeing if you're comfortable and making sure you have everything you need. Do you want something to drink? Would you like something to eat? Was the toilet paper soft enough?"

"Toilet paper?" Hank chuckles

"I kid you not," Doug states in a nearly horrified voice. "Her mother was all set to go to the store and buy a different brand of toilet paper if I didn't like the brand she had. Those people are completely loony."

"If you're not going to believe me, please believe him," she begs resting her hand on his arm. "I wouldn't inflict my family on my worst enemy."

"Ok, ok, I believe you," he chuckles as he finally picks up his menu. "But you didn't answer the question I asked you a few days ago."

"What question was that?" she inquires, perplexed.

"Will you come to my parents' place for Easter?" he asks while fishing his glasses out of his pocket.

"Oh, that question," she nearly squeaks. "I'll get back to you on that."

"If you don't want to go, I'd perfectly understand," he tells her as he buries his nose in the menu.

"It's not that, it's just I don't know what to tell my parents," she explains. "If I go to one of your family get-togethers before they get to meet you, there's going to be Hell to pay. God, what am I going to do?"

It's her turn to drop her head on the table with a 'thunk' and Hank gently rubs her back while going over the menu. The feeling of his warm hand rubbing soothing circles on her back is almost enough to put her to sleep right then and there. It feels so good that she almost doesn't notice Doug move her bag away from her and she barely manages to lift her head to look at him.

"Go back to your purring, I'm just going to take a quick look," Doug tells her.

"I'm not purring," she growls.

"She's right, it's physically impossible for a human to purr unintentionally," Hank puts in without looking up from his menu. "It was more of a humming sound she was making."

"You're not helping," she grumbles to herself before folding her arms on the table and dropping her head on them.

"What have you got there?" Hank asks Doug as Doug pulls a sketch pad out of Amanda's satchel.

"Her drawings," Doug tells him while flipping the book open. "Hey, these are old ones. Where are your newer ones?"

"The new stuff is in the book with the blue cover," she answers without bothering to look up.

"Why'd you bring the old ones?" Doug asks as he fishes out the correct book from her bag.

"Grandma wanted to see them," she explains. "I didn't have time to drop them off before coming here."

"May I see them?" Hank asks.

"Sure, go ahead," she replies as the server finally arrives to take their orders.

After the server leaves, Hank and Doug look through the sketch books while Amanda happily hums as Hank is now scratching her back.

"These are very good," Hank tells her as he slowly goes through the pages.

"Thank you," she mumbles.

"You should see some of her latest stuff," Doug states with an amused tone. "Ah, here's one of my favorites."

"Oh…my," Hank gasps as he carefully takes the pad that Doug is holding.

He stares at an image of himself staring back at him over the top of his glasses that are perched on the end of his nose and an amused look on his face.

"I don't remember posing for this," he states.

"You didn't," Amanda tells him without even bothering to look up. "I get images stuck in my head and they don't go away until I draw them out."

"When is this from?" Hank asks and she finally lifts her head from her arms to look at her drawing.

"I drew that after our first date," she tells him before lying her head back down.

"When did you have time?" he questions, turning his attention back to the paper.

"After I got home," she responds as she gets comfortable again.

"I must say I'm very flattered," Hank tells her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she sleepily replies.

"You're no fun," Doug pouts as he takes the pad away from Hank. "I was sure you'd at least blush a little."

"Too tired to be embarrassed," she mumbles. "I spent a week sleeping on a lumpy couch."

"I thought you were going to get an air mattress," Doug responds.

"I did," she responds. "Jason whined until I put it away."

"Hasn't anyone put that little brat over a knee yet?" Doug asks.

"Nope," she growls.

"I'm not sure I understand," Hank puts in.

"Do you remember the spoiled rotten brat that my cousin gave birth to?" she questions as she raises her head to rest her chin on her arms.

"Ah, yes," Hank answers. "The only child who is in desperate need of some disciplinary action."

"That's the one," she tells him. "Well, when he saw that I had an air mattress, he wanted to sleep on it. I, of course, had the temerity to tell him 'no'. So he goes crying to his mother about what a big meanie I am. My cousin comes storming downstairs demanding to know why I didn't buy a mattress for Jason too. After about ten minutes of arguing about why it's not my job to see that Jason is living in the lap of luxury, my mother comes downstairs demanding that I either give up my mattress or put it away because our arguing was keeping everyone up. Since I'd sooner put a hole in the mattress than give it to that whiny, snot nosed brat, I had to put it away. I then spent the rest of my trip sleeping on the couch."

"I'm surprised he didn't demand to be allowed to sleep there," Hank states.

"He got the good couch," she growls as she sits the rest of the way up. "I got the old decrepit one at the other end of the house where the warm air never seems to reach during the cold months."

"I have to wonder again why you go if it's as bad as you say," Hank says.

"My grandmother is there," she tells him as she points to the pads in their hands. "She's the one who taught me how to draw. It's one of the few times of the year that I get to just sit down with her and talk. She makes it all worth while. Of course, a week's worth of home cooked meals doesn't hurt either."

"And they say the way to man's heart is through his stomach," Doug snickers and she sticks her tongue out at him. "Not your best defense, counselor."

"I think I'll go powder my nose before I have to hurt someone," she mutters as she gets up, giving Doug a glare and heads for the bathroom.

"Not to sound egotistical," Hank starts as soon as she's out of site. "But are there more drawings of…"

"You?" Doug finishes and hands the pad he was looking at over. "Have a look for yourself."

Hank cautiously flips open the cover and starts to go through the wide variety of drawings in her sketch book. There's everything from simple graphite pencil drawings to those that have been filled in with colored pencils and there are images as simple as a leaf and as complex as kids at play. He can feel his skin heat up as he encounters the number of pictures of him but then he gets to one that raises the hackles on the back of his neck and he lets out an involuntary low growl.

"Ah, I see you came to the one of James," Doug says and Hank looks up at the other man.

"It's an incredible likeness," Hank says in a flat voice.

"Do you see what's surrounding him?" Doug asks and Hank takes another look at the picture.

"He's standing in a field next to a tree and it looks to be about twilight," Hank states.

"Take a closer look," Doug instructs.

Hank adjusts his glasses and leans closer to the paper and he nearly drops the pad when he sees what he's been missing.

"Snakes," Hank states.

"And they're everywhere," Doug replies. "There are snakes in the grass, there's a snake in the tree and if you look closely, you'll see one on top of his head and coming out of his sleeve. Plus they're all constrictors."

"One would think that she would draw vipers," Hank muses as he goes back to examining the picture.

"Yes, but it was once believed that constrictors mesmerized their food into holding still while they wrapped their coils around the victim," Doug points out. "A sort of mind control, just like what James does."

"Ah, I see," Hank replies as he continues to inspect the drawing. "But why is one of the snakes in the tree?"

"It's the snake that tempted Eve, not that I'm any Eve, but it just seemed right at the time," Amanda states causing Hank to actually jump in surprise. "I never thought I'd get the drop on you."

"Why'd you draw a picture of him?" Hank asks, trying to keep any accusatory tones out of his voice.

"My drawings are an emotional outlet," she tells him as she sits back down. "If something makes me happy, sad, angry, what have you, then I draw it. It's a type of therapy for me and paper and pencils are a lot cheaper than a therapist."

"I suppose it would be," he replies with a smile as he rises to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, it seems that I'm in need of the little boy's room. I'll be right back."

"So how is it that you two came here together miss 'I'll just take a cab home and meet you at the restaurant'?" Doug teasingly asks as soon as Hank's around the corner.

"He surprised me at the station," she answers. "About scared me out of my wits too."

"So, did he get a kiss hello?" Doug inquires, a smirk firmly planted on his lips.

"Are you kidding?" she scoffs as she drops her face into her hands. "I'm pretty sure the man still has his tonsils. God, I feel like a slut."

"Speaking of sluts," Doug says, his face becoming serious and his voice dropping in volume to just above a whisper. "Don't turn around, but guess who just walked in the door?"


	37. Dinner with Doug, pt 2

**Author's Notes: **Thank you J. Tyler, LovelyLadyJem, halleyjo, Takerslady, maraluch, Mythigal, theNightEnchantress, asp, AngerManagementIssues45 and dog youkai jane for your reviews. You guys are the best.

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"Oh God, please tell me Bobbi didn't just walk in the door," she moans as she drops her face into her hand.

"Not the she-slut, the he-slut," he clarifies quietly.

"Great, just what I need right now," she groans. "Has he spotted us yet?"

"Yup and he's headed this way," he warns.

"Lovely," she grumbles under her breath.

"There you are," Jeff growls a few moments later.

"Wow, how incredibly perceptive of you, Jeff," she replies with false cheerfulness as she looks up at her ex-boyfriend. "I guess you won't be needing that trip to the ophthalmologist after all. So, how is Bobbi?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Jeff snarls leaning towards her. "Thanks to you, that stupid little cunt gave me crabs."

"I hardly see how you getting a sexually transmitted disease is _my_ fault," she responds, an amused look on her face.

"Well, if you had put out, maybe I wouldn't have been doing your roommate," Jeff snaps.

"And there are those two little words again that make these conversations so much fun," she points out with a grin. "'If' and 'maybe'. _If_ I had thrown my morals out the window to slack your carnal lust, than _maybe_ you would have stayed faithful. You'll excuse me if that doesn't inspire great faith in me in your ability to keep it in your pants. Now, if you'll excuse us, we were having a private conversation."

"Now you listen here, bitch!" Jeff yells as the manager comes hurrying over.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the manager insists. "I cannot allow you to harass our patrons."

"You can't kick me out, I'm having dinner with my friends," Jeff tells the man as he plops down in Hank's seat and Doug's eyebrows threaten to become one with his hairline.

"Would you please explain to me why I would want to have dinner with an ex-boyfriend?" she asks, one eyebrow arched while the manager hovers nearby.

"I'd bet you'd rather be having dinner with your big, blue ape," Jeff says in a disgusted tone of voice. "I've seen the pictures of you sucking face with him. Bet you spread your legs for him. Bet you two do it doggie style, too."

"I'm going to ask you this nicely only once, Jeff," she states, eyes narrowed and just barely holding onto her anger. "Will you please leave?"

"Make me," he sneers.

"Gladly," snarls a deep voice just behind the intruder.

Before Jeff can react, a pair of long arms with blue, furry hands, reaches around the man and picks him and the chair he's sitting in up. Hank easily lifts his occupied seat and marches across the restaurant where the manager waits for them with the front door open, Jeff yelling his protests all the way. Hank steps out into the cold night air, upturns the chair, dumping Jeff out onto the sidewalk and then marches back to the table.

"You might want to sit in the other chair now," Doug suggests when Hank returns. "After all, Jeff did admit to having crabs."

"Very good advice," Hank agrees as he replaces the chair he's carrying, moves around the table and sits down. "Though, truthfully, there's no way I could contract a STD from sitting in the same chair as an infected person."

"Yeah, but there's the whole, 'eww, ick' thing to worry about," Doug points out.

"True," Hank nods in agreement as turns to see Amanda furiously sketching away. "What are you drawing now?"

"You giving Jeff a ride," she tells him without bothering to look up. "The look on his face was priceless."

"At this point there's no point in talking to her," Doug tells Hank. "Once she gets drawing, she's pretty much useless."

"Am not," she mutters back as the server arrives with their dinners and she barely looks up.

There's a minor amount of disruption as the plates are sorted out as the food is served and she takes a couple of bites before going back to her drawing. Hank watches her, slightly amused by her absolute concentration on that piece of paper. The slight frown on her face as she works is, in his opinion, adorable and it takes a great deal of will power not to just grab her and kiss her.

"Don't bother trying to talk to her," Doug says as he stuffs a French fry in his mouth. "You can say whatever you want and all she'll do is make these noises like she's pretending to listen."

"You must be joking," Hank scoffs as he takes a bite of his dinner.

"Observe," Doug replies before turning his attention to the woman across the table from him. "Amanda, sugar?"

"Hmm?" she hums in response.

"Hank and I are having an affair," Doug states in all seriousness and Hank's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Uh-huh," she mumbles back, not looking up from her drawing and Hank's not sure which of the two just shocked him more.

"Your sister's decided to come out of the closet," Doug continues, trying to keep a smile off of his face. "She's leaving her husband and joining an all girl's biking gang. She's going to make money doing poll dancing at strip clubs."

"Uh-huh," she repeats.

"Your parents are Satanists and have orgies at their house once a week," Doug says, a small snicker managing to escape his lips.

"Uh-huh," she echoes.

"Incredible," Hank murmurs in stunned surprise. "Nothing you say gets her attention?"

"Not a thing," Doug chuckles. "It doesn't matter how outrageous it is either. She's off in her own little world right now. You try it."

"You think I should?" Hank asks, a bit uncertain.

"Yeah, go for it," Doug encourages. "The worse that'll happen is that she'll grunt at you."

"Are you sure?" Hank questions nervously.

"Yeah, go ahead," Doug replies with a wave of his hand.

Hank watches Amanda for a while, her pencil furiously flying over the paper making little scratching sounds as it goes. Her meal sits off to one side as the pad is taking the space the plate would normally occupy and every once and a while, she takes a bite of her food. She's completely oblivious to him staring at her, admiring the way the light reflects off of her black tresses and the smoothness of her skin. He briefly wonders what such a beautiful woman would see in him and then he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

"I love you. Will you marry me?"

**SNAP!**

"Ok, that got her attention," Doug states in surprise several silent seconds later.

She stares unseeingly at the ruined picture in front of her, her broken pencil hangs uselessly from her nerveless fingers. She can barely breathe and she wants to swallow, but she can't since her mouth is completely dry. She can feel her heart pounding against her ribs and she's fairly sure that for the first time in her life she's actually going to faint.

"Amanda, I…," Hank starts.

"I, um, need to use the, uh, restroom," she interrupts as she quickly stands up.

She's so abrupt in her departure she doesn't notice that she's knocked over her chair or the pad of paper and the broken pencil have fallen to the floor. Hank carefully picks up the dropped and knocked over items, putting them back in their proper places. He glances at the paper she had been working on to see an outline of him lifting Jeff and the chair and in the middle of the work, a big gouge where she stabbed the pencil into the pad as she broke her pencil.

"Uh, Hank, remember what I said the other week about her going into this relationship too fast?" Doug nervously asks as Hank stares worriedly in the direction Amanda went.

"I believe I owe her an apology," Hank states as he stands up. "I'm going to go check on her."

"Sounds like a good idea," Doug softly replies as he worriedly chews on his lip while watching the other man leave.

A few moments later Hank finds himself standing in the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. He catches Amanda's scent and it ends at the door to the lady's restroom so he knows she didn't sneak out the back door. He takes up a position against the wall waiting for her and trying to stay out of the way as other customers come down the hall to use the facilities.

She emerges a few minutes later and he can see that her eyes are a bit puffier than they had been, the hair around her face is a bit damp and her makeup has been reapplied. She seems a bit surprised to see him standing there and they stand there staring at each other for several seconds before one of the other diners needs to get past them. After the man passes them, she doesn't look back up at him, but she doesn't move away either.

"I'm sorry," he finally says. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know that in this day and age people treat marriage as if it's no more important than buying a pair of shoes," she quietly states, staring at a spot off to the side. "But when I get married, I want it to be for life. The first time you joked about asking me to marrying you, I kind of understood, but this time…"

"Was less than sensitive of me, I can understand that and I do apologize," he replies as he reaches out and gently strokes her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I swear to you that if I ever ask you to marry me again, it will be with ring in hand and on bended knee."

"That's both reassuring and frightening all at the same time," she tells him as she captures the hand caressing her cheek with her own and then rubs her face against his fingers.

"For both of us," he assures her just before leaning over and kissing her.

The sound of someone dropping something in the kitchen brings reality crashing back to them a lot sooner than they'd like and the kiss ends. He pulls her into a brief hug before he starts to gently guide her back to the table. As soon as they come into sight, a look of relief comes over Doug's face just before he gives them a giant grin.

"I was beginning to think I was going to have to send out a search party," Doug teases as they retake their seats.

"A thousand comedians out of work in New York City and he's trying to be funny," Amanda scoffs while Hank scoots her chair in for her, causing the ambassador to chuckle.

"Fine, be that way," Doug pouts. "See if I share any of my movies with you."

"I have movies of my own, thank you," she points out while she pulls her plate in front of her.

"Yeah, in a box that's taped shut with the word 'FAMILY ROOM' written on the side," Doug reminds her and she groans.

"Brat," she grumbles as she stabs her food with her fork.

"So, what do you have to say?" Doug asks, continuing in his tormenting.

"What type of toppings do you want on your sundae?" she mutters just before cramming her fork into her mouth.

"Not quite what I had in mind, but it'll do," he replies as he pulls out three square envelopes with what appear to be discs in them out of the inside pocket of his jacket. "So, we've got…"

"Wait," she interrupts before turning towards Hank who's been quietly eating this whole time. "Would you care to join us?"

"Doing what?" Hank asks after swallowing.

"Well, after dinner, Doug and I normally go back to my place, watch a movie and I make sundaes for dessert," she tells him and she can feel butterflies starting to flutter in her tummy. "Would you like to join us?"

"Well, if Doug doesn't mind," Hank hesitantly replies.

"Heck, no, I don't mind," Doug assures him before getting a sly look on his face. "In fact, if you two pick the right movie, I might just have an emergency arise so I have to leave early. That way you two can have some, ahem, _alone_ time."

"You'd miss out on one of my sundaes?" she asks, trying to ignore the fact that her face is beet red and she can see out of the corner of her eye that Hank isn't doing much better.

"Oh, don't worry, my problem won't develop until after dessert," Doug grins.

"Naturally," she states in a flat voice.

"So, what movie do you want to watch?" Doug asks as he holds up the envelopes. "I have **My Big Fat Greek Wedding**."

Four narrowed eyes give Doug his answer.

"Ok, not that one," Doug mutters as he flips that envelope to the bottom of the stack. "How about **Phantom of the Opera**?"

"NO!" is the emphatic answer from both of them causing Doug to jump.

"Ok, ok, I get the hint," Doug hurriedly replies. "That leaves **V for Vendetta**."

"After putting up with my family for a week, I could definitely use a little mayhem right now," she admits.

"Me as well," Hank agrees.

"I've got to remember to put more romances in my Netflix queue," Doug mumbles as he puts the movies away. "Ok, blood shed and buildings blowing up it is."

"Sounds like fun," she states with a smile. "So, how was your Thanksgiving?"

"Ok," Doug answers. "At least my cousin is still on speaking terms with me. Her apartment's really tiny and she's not the best cook in the world, but we managed and it was still better than spending it alone. Maybe next year we'll have it at my place."

"How many were there?" she asks.

"Her, her partner, their daughter and me," Doug responds. "The estrogen in that apartment could have choked a horse, but it was ok."

"Her partner still giving you grief?" she questions.

"Naturally," Doug sighs. "You'd think that it was my fault that most of the men she's known have been jerks. Luckily their daughter is old enough to tell her to stop being a twit."

"She actually called her mother a twit?" she inquires in shock.

"No, she called her a bitch, I was just trying to be polite," Doug answers.

"Ooh, teenage girls, gotta love 'em or else you'd kill 'em," she moans in sympathy.

"Isn't that the truth," Doug chuckles before turning to the third member of their party. "So now that we've hogged all of the conversation, how was your Thanksgiving, Hank?"

"Oh, about the same as usual," he replies. "My grandfather blames my mutation on my father, my uncle thinks that I'm trying to bring about the downfall of the United States, my aunt thinks I'm the anti-Christ, my father spends most of his time avoiding everyone and my mother looks at me with this very sad look in her eyes when she thinks I'm not looking. Unfortunately, my cousins aren't much better, but at least they usually keep their mouths shut. The upside to all this is that my mother is thrilled that I have found a girlfriend and desperately wants to meet her."

Both men glance over at Amanda and they can see her turning a lovely shade of pink.

"So, you're mom's really happy that you've found someone, is she?" Doug asks, not taking his eyes off of his friend.

"Ecstatic really," Hank answers, also keeping his gaze on his girlfriend.

"She was ecstatic that you have a girlfriend?" Doug inquires in surprise.

"She was afraid that after my rather drastic appearance change that there wouldn't be anyone for me to spend my days with," Hank explains.

"There's more to a person than appearances," Amanda softly puts in.

"True, but not many can get past the appearance to find that out," Hank replies.

"I feel sorry for them," she responds as she reaches out and lays her hand on top of his.

"Thank you," he replies as he captures her hand and then gently kisses the back of it.

"On second thought, maybe I'll go home and you two can go rent a movie or something," Doug snickers as he watches the couple.

"And miss out on one of my sundaes?" she teasingly asks and Doug lets out a whimper.

"You really know how to hurt a guy," Doug pouts as the server returns with the check.

"Is it your turn or mine?" she inquires as she picks up the bill.

"I think I get the dubious pleasure this time," Doug says as he reaches for the slip of paper in her hand.

"Actually, if no one minds, I'll treat," Hank states as he snatches the paper.

"I'm not going to argue," Doug replies before turning to Amanda again. "You should bring him more often."

"So you can humiliate me further?" she scoffs as she pushes her plate away. "I don't think so."

"Kill joy," Doug mutters and Hank chuckles at their banter while he pulls out his wallet.

A few minutes later they're standing on the same sidewalk that Jeff had not so long ago had been dumped on. A bitter cold wind whips past them causing them all to shiver as they turn up their coat collars and then head towards Amanda's apartment. Another blast of wind causes her to move closer to Hank and his warmth and he cautiously circles her shoulders with his arm. When one of her arms wraps itself around his waist, he's practically walking on air with happiness.


	38. Sundae Surprise!

**Author's Notes**: A big thank you to Maraluch, LovelyLadyJem, asp, Oscar, Takerslady, theNightEnchntress, LifeBringsMeOnlyTears, mythigal, Slayven, AngerManagementIssues45, Jedi-Girl8900 and Erisah Mae for your reviews. I haven't forgotten this story, I've just been updating a couple of my other stories that I've got going. As always, please review when you're done reading.

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"I was wondering about something, my dear," Hank says as they step into her apartment building and cross the lobby, ignoring the security guard.

"What's that?" Amanda asks as she starts to dig around in her purse for her keys with the hand that's not wrapped around Hank's waist.

"What did you see in Jeff?" he questions while Doug pushes the elevator call button. "He seems to be a most unpleasant fellow."

"He's actually a pretty nice guy and he's funny…sometimes," she replies as she finds her keys and pulls them out. "Of course, the last couple of times I've seen him, he's been less than fun to be around. Being caught with your pants down can be very embarrassing and does tend to put people on the defensive."

"That doesn't exactly explain tonight's behavior," Hank points out.

"No, it doesn't," she agrees as the elevator dings its arrival and the doors open up.

"He came looking for you tonight, sugar," Doug states as he pushes the floor button while the other two follow him into the small compartment.

"It did seem that way," she sighs as she leans her head against Hank's shoulder. "I have a feeling he had more to say than Bobbi gave him crabs. I wonder what he really wanted."

"Something tells me you'll find out soon enough," Doug warns as he takes her keys from her and the doors open a second later.

"Probably sooner than I'd like too," she grumbles as they all troop down the hallway towards her apartment.

"I'll help in any way I can if he starts to cause you problems," Hank offers.

"That's very sweet of you, but Jeff is a more mundane problem than James," she replies with a smile. "Mundane problems I can handle."

"If you change your mind, you have my number," he says with a sly grin.

"That I do," she responds with a smile of her own while Doug opens her door.

"Yeah, and she drew little hearts and flowers around it, too," Doug teases.

"They aren't hearts," she shoots back as she lets go of Hank to chase down her best friend with intentions of bodily harm. "Those are butterflies."

Doug laughs as he dances out of her reach and then immediately trips over her bags.

"Hey! No fair booby trapping the front entryway," Doug complains as he climbs to his feet.

"Well, if you want to catch a boob…," she implies with a grin and Doug casts her a withering glance as Hank chuckles from behind her.

"I should just take my movie and go home," Doug grumbles.

"Well, if you don't want dessert, that's your decision," she replies with a shrug as she picks up her bags and heads for her room.

"That's blackmail!" Doug yells after her while Hank shuts the front door.

"Just stating the facts," she counters as she closes her bedroom door.

Hank silently watches while Doug stares daggers at the closed bedroom door and the mutant quietly chuckles to himself. With a huff, Doug sheds his coat and hangs it on a peg near the front door after pulling the chosen DVD out of his pocket. Hank follows suit and then steps into the now rather empty looking living room.

"Go ahead and get comfortable, Hank," Doug states as he heads over to the entertainment center. "She'll be out in a bit."

"What is she doing?" Hank inquires as he moves towards the couch.

"Getting into something more comfortable," Doug tells him while he puts the DVD into the player.

"Is she aware that you called me the other night?" Hank quietly asks as he carefully sits at one end of the sofa.

"No and if she ever finds out I'll probably never see another one of her sundaes again," Doug softly answers before continuing in a normal voice. "You should feel very honored, Hank."

"How so?" Hank questions.

"You're the first guy that she's dated that she's invited to one of our Sunday rituals," Doug tells him as he plops down on the other end of the couch and picks up a couple of remotes that have been sitting on the coffee table.

"She's never invited another boyfriend up for sundaes and movies?" Hank inquires.

"Nope," Doug confirms and then pauses in mid-button push. "Wait a minute…did you just say…'boyfriend'?"

"Yes, why?" Hank replies.

"She's already calling you her boyfriend?" Doug asks, turning to look at the other man, his eyes wide with shock.

"Yes, why?" Hank repeats.

"Wow," Doug murmurs as he leans back into the cushions. "It usually takes a month or two before she calls some guy she's dating her 'boyfriend'. Jeff had only just gained that exalted title when she caught him and Bobbi doing the horizontal mambo and it took him a couple of months get to that level. I'm not sure if I should be thrilled or worried."

"Hopefully the former," Hank replies as they hear Amanda's door open.

Hank turns to see her come out wearing nothing more than an old pair of sweats and fuzzy socks. Not very exciting attire at first, but it only just registers in his brain that she's not wearing a bra just before she disappears into the bathroom.

_Mate_, Beast purrs as Hank tries to get his libido under control.

"She must be wearing something really interesting if that catch in your breath was anything to go by," Doug says, still staring at the TV.

"Actually, she's wearing sweats and fuzzy socks," Hank says after clearing his throat, his voice not as strangled as he feared it would be.

"Boy, you've got it as bad as she does," Doug chuckles. "That's actually a good thing, in my book."

"I'm glad to hear that," Hank responds, holding onto his dignity by a mere thread.

Amanda emerges from the bathroom a short time later with her face freshly washed and her hair brushed into loose shiny waves down to the middle of her back. Hank swallows hard as she walks past them to the kitchen, not even looking at either one of them. Hank can feel his cheeks heating up while Doug snickers from his end of the couch and the sounds of cabinets, drawers and fridge doors opening and closing soon reaches them.

"Would you care for some help, my dear?" Hank offers, not entirely sure he can stand at this moment, but feels the need to make the offer none the less.

"No, thanks, I'm good," she calls back as the sounds of bowls and spoons being made ready fill the air. "So, what type of toppings do you guys want on your sundaes?"

"The usual," Doug answers as he plays around with the remotes.

"Right, cod liver oil, pencil shavings and ball bearings," she cheerfully responds. "Hank?"

"Oh, anything edible will be fine, thank you," Hank replies, still a bit puzzled by her response.

"Uh-oh, you're going to get tar, shaving cream and brown gravel," Doug warns with a giggle.

"Dare I ask?" Hank calls towards the kitchen.

"You could, but we probably wouldn't get to the movie since it's another one of those embarrassing life moments that I'd rather not relive, thank you," she replies as more interesting sounds come from the kitchen.

"Ok, just checking," Hank responds, trying not to sound too worried.

Doug and Amanda both chuckle at his discomfort while Doug finishes getting the movie set up and she works on their sundaes. A few minutes later, she returns to the living room with three bowls in her hands and a smirk on her face. She hands the bowls out and then takes a seat on the couch between the two men while Hank takes a quick glance at Doug's to see it covered in caramel sauce, toasted cocoanut and those small silver ball candies that by all rights should break teeth when bitten.

"Thank you, my dear, it looks quite tasty," Hank states as he picks up his spoon.

"You're welcome," she replies while Doug hits the 'play' button on the remote.

Without really paying attention to what's under the chocolate sauce, whipped cream and little chocolate sprinkles, he takes a spoon full and eats it. After getting a delightful surprise, he takes a closer look at his dessert and chuckles.

"I never thought the re-enactment of Guy Fawke's getting caught was amusing, but if that's what floats your boat…," Doug mutters.

"I have a feeling Hank just figured out what my base component is for my sundaes," she tells her friend without taking her eyes off of the screen.

"I must admit that I never thought to put a Twinkie in a sundae before," Hank admits.

"Do you like it?" she asks nervously.

"It's quite delicious, my dear, thank you," Hank assures her, looking at her, instead of the movie.

"You're welcome," she smiles at him, also ignoring what's happening on the TV screen.

"If you two are going to make big puppy dog eyes at each other, I'm taking my sundae and going home," Doug warns.

"Please explain to me the draw backs of that plan," she replies, still looking at Hank.

"In that case I'm staying right here so you two don't get any funny ideas," Doug shoots back and the other two chuckle at him.

"Perhaps we should all just finish our desserts and watch the movie," Hank suggests in a slightly commanding voice.

"Yes, Dad," Doug and Amanda answer together and both break down in giggling fits.

Hank chuckles and briefly shakes his head before going back to his delightful Twinkie sundae. The other two calm down and follow suit with only the sounds of the movie and spoons clinking against the bowls filling the apartment moments later. A sense of contentment fills him as Hank leans back into the couch cushions and finishes his food.

About half way through the movie, Doug glances over at the other two on the couch and sees that they're both totally absorbed with the movie. He watches them out of the corner of his eye for a minute and he finally figures out what's bugging him about what he sees. They're sitting next to each other, but they're not touching and that's something this best friend can't tolerate.

Very carefully and quietly, Doug toes his sneakers off under the coffee table and then tucks his legs up underneath himself with his feet very close to Amanda's hip. He goes still for several minutes, casually noting that Hank's arm is draped along the back of the couch and he works very hard to keep his face still so as not to give anything away. He makes one final adjustment, stops moving for a few minutes and then in one swift movement he plants his feet on her hip and shoves her into Hank!

"DOUG!" she yells as Hank instinctively wraps his arms around her to protect her, a small growl escaping his throat.

"Boyfriend and girlfriend watching a movie together on a couch and not cuddling," Doug quietly grumbles, his feet not moving from where they are. "It's not right."

She turns her gaze to Hank and he looks back with a rather amused look on his face.

"Hi," she says, her cheeks starting to turn a lovely shade of red.

"Hi," he replies, Beast is practically purring inside of his head.

"Do you mind?" she asks, her heart pounding against her ribs, afraid that he does object.

"It depends on what I should be minding," he responds as he tilts his head in curiosity.

"Us sitting this close," she clarifies.

"No, my dear, I don't mind at all," he purrs as he holds her a little closer.

"Good," she sighs as she rests her head on Hank's shoulder and he tries to turn his attention back to the movie.

"OUCH!" Doug yelps as he gives a little jump.

"Are you alright?" Hank asks as Doug starts rubbing one of his feet.

"You could have just asked me to move my feet," Doug grumbles as she chuckles evilly. "You didn't have to pinch me."

"Now where would have been the fun in that?" she questions as she wraps her arm around Hank's middle.

"That wasn't very nice, my dear," he gently admonishes, trying to keep his lips from twitching with the smile that's trying to get out.

"Neither was pushing me into you," she points out.

"Two wrongs do not make a right," he counters.

"But three lefts do," she laughs and he has to chuckle at the absurdity of her answer.

He shakes his head, kisses the top of hers and then gets comfortable with her in his arms. With a contented sigh, she relaxes into his embrace, silently hoping for the night to never end.

* * *

"What should I do with her now?" Hank inquires.

"I usually stick a pillow under her head, cover her with a blanket and call it a night," Doug answers as he gets the DVD out of the player.

"You just leave her on the couch?" Hank asks, horrified.

"Hank, look at me," Doug says, turning to the mutant currently pinned to the couch by a sleeping Amanda. "I'm only a couple of inches taller than her and about half as wide. Let's be real, I'd hurt myself."

"Good point," Hank concedes. "If you wouldn't mind helping me, I will put her to bed."

"What do you want me to do?" Doug questions as he moves towards the couple.

"Move her legs to where I can reach them," Hank instructs.

Doug complies and a moment later, Hank carefully gets to his feet with his girlfriend in his arms and heads for her bedroom. Doug precedes him, turning on the bedroom light and then turning down the covers, accidentally knocking Blue off of the far side of the bed in the process. After tucking her into bed, Hank retrieves the teddy bear and tucks it under the covers with her, resisting the urge to sniff it since it now carries her scent on its fur.

"Where'd that come from?" Doug asks as Hank kisses her forehead and a second later she curls up with Blue and gives a small sigh.

"I won it for her when we went to the carnival," Hank answers as he caresses her face with his fingertips before turning to go.

"She's sleeping with a teddy bear," Doug quietly chuckles. "I've now officially seen everything."

"Come, we should go before we accidentally wake her up," Hank states, looking back at her, reluctant to leave.

"That's why you're just standing there like a big, blue statue," Doug snickers after several seconds of Hank not moving.

"I must admit that I'm rather reluctant to leave," Hank softly sighs.

"Come on, big guy," Doug says as he goes over and starts pushing Hank out of the room. "You can ogle her some other time. Preferably when she's wearing a lot less."

"You think that way about your best friend?" Hank asks as he reluctantly allows himself to be herded out of her bedroom.

"What am I? Her mother?" Doug snorts as he goes to get his coat from its peg.

"I haven't met her mother yet, so I wouldn't know," Hank replies as he retrieves his own outerwear.

"Heaven help you if you ever do," Doug warns as he gets her spare key from a drawer. "You'll find yourself being fitted for a monkey suit before you can blink."

"They aren't really that bad are they?" Hank asks as they step out into the corridor and Doug locks up behind them.

"Those people should be locked up," Doug grumbles while they head for the elevators. "Here I am, going through an emotionally rough time and they think that Amy's brought home a future husband. They're a bunch of loonies, the whole lot of them."

"I'll keep that in mind if I ever do get the chance to meet them," Hank chuckles as the elevator doors open up for them. "You called her Amy. I take it that's her nickname."

"Yeah, but do yourself a favor, don't ever call her Mandy," Doug warns as they step into the small space.

"She's not a Barry Manilow fan I take it," Hank muses.

"It's a good thing we can't be arrested for the things we'd like to do," Doug chuckles as the doors open. "Otherwise, she'd need a _really_ good lawyer and Manilow would need a _really_ good proctologist."

"I'll keep that in mind," Hank replies a smile tugging at his lips. "Thank you for the warning."

"Forewarned and all that stuff," Doug replies with a smile as the elevator doors open and they exit.

"You seem to be a lot more involved with her love life than most friends I've met," Hank says while the cross the lobby.

"You make her happy and that makes me happy," Doug replies as they step out into the cold night air. "I've seen her have too many bad relationships and I'm trilled to see her excited about something other than a case she's working on. I just have one request."

"What's that?" Hank inquires as they stand just outside the doors to her apartment building.

"If things don't work out between the two of you, let her down gentle," Doug requests, his eyes begging. "I've seen her with a broken heart once in my life and I don't ever want to see it again."

"I assure you, Doug, that I will do everything in my power to never be the one responsible for bringing a tear of sadness to her eye," Hank replies whole heartedly.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that," Doug says as he starts to step away from Hank. "I better get going. Good night, Hank."

"Good night, Doug," Hank replies before turning to head for his car, carefully mulling what he's learned this evening over in his head.


	39. Monday Morning Blues

**Author's Notes**: Thank you Takerslady, LovelyLadyJem, Mythigal, theNightEnchantress, Erisah Mae, Maraluch, AngerManagementIssues45 and Jedi-Girl8900 for your reviews. For those who read the comics, I apologize now since I'm once again taking some liberties with Trish Tilby this time. Shade is one of my original characters; please don't use her without my permission.

* * *

"Good morning," Betty cheerfully greets and then she sees the look on Amanda's face. "Uh-oh, what's the matter?"

"I'm really beginning to dislike Mondays," Amanda states in a very controlled voice.

"What happened?" Betty asks.

"Let's just say my dislike of reporters has just grown by leaps and bounds," Amanda answers, some of her anger starting to seep through.

"I guess showing you this won't help your mood any then," Betty says, holding up a section of newspaper with a much dreaded picture printed on the page and Amanda lets out a resigned sigh.

"It could be worse, I suppose," Amanda says as she takes the paper and starts to head for the door leading to the back. "My mother could be getting the newspaper and see these. Oh, and by the way, if I get a call from a Trish Tilby or The Star Report, put them on hold until the moon turns to green cheese and falls out of the sky."

"Isn't Trish Tilby that reporter that loves to report trash on all the big name people in Hollywood?" Betty questions.

"The one and the same," Amanda confirms.

"What is she doing in New York?" Betty inquires.

"Trying to make my life miserable," Amanda grumbles just before disappearing through the doorway that leads to the offices.

* * *

It started off as such a good day. It really had. But then the mail had come.

_You are cordially invited, _it says in fancy gold script lettering, _to an evening of Holiday cheer._

"'Holiday cheer' my blue, furry butt," he softly grumbles to himself. "Just another excuse to trot out the pet mutant."

He really doesn't want to go, but if his position his doing some good, then it's best not to upset the President of the United States. The mere thought of putting on the monkey suit and custom dress shoes is about as exciting as a root canal…without Novocain. Then there's the thought of dragging her to one of these things is cringe worthy at best, especially after what happened the last time she went to one of these soirees. With a sigh of defeat, he reaches for the phone just as his personal assistant sticks her head in the door.

"Yes, Mary, what is it?" he says, glad for a little reprieve from the inevitable.

"Sir, I just forwarded you a link to something on youtube, I think you better have a look at it," she replies, looking a bit worried.

"Alright," he responds, confused by her behavior.

He turns to his computer and opens his email account to find Mary's email at the top of the list. He opens it to find the link she said would be there and clicks on it. A second later a new window opens and within moments a video starts to play that makes his jaw drop.

* * *

"_Is that thing on?" Trish demands, not even bothering to look back at the camera that's pointed at the back of her head._

"_Yes, Ms. Tilby," a patient male voice replies, its owner unseen by the camera lens. _

"_Good ," the dark haired woman says, crouching down behind the back of a white van and then she turns around, plastering a big, fake smile on her face. "This is Trish Tilby on special report in New York. We're about to talk to Ambassador Hank McCoy's new paramour, Amanda Simon."_

_Trish turns back around and peeks out from behind the van to whatever lays beyond._

"_Here she comes," she hisses. "Get ready to move."_

_There's several seconds of nothing happening and suddenly Trish is moving with the camera right behind her. It takes only a moment to spot her intended victim and before Amanda realizes what's going on, her way is blocked and a microphone is shoved in her face._

"_Amanda Simon, Trish Tilby with The Star Report," Trish quickly says and the look on Amanda's face goes from surprise to cool indifference._

"_Is there something I can help you with Miss Tilby?" Amanda asks coldly._

"_Is it true that you and Ambassador McCoy are officially a couple?" Trish asks._

"_It depends," Amanda replies evasively. "If you mean 'officially' in a legal capacity, then the answer is no."_

"_I meant are you two dating?" Trish clarifies, a hint of annoyance in her voice._

"_Then, yes, Miss Tilby, the Ambassador and I are currently seeing each other, but then again, any one with a pair of eyes and a newspaper already knows that," Amanda answers and starts to try to go around Trish. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get to work."_

"_How does it feel knowing that the Ambassador is a member of a secret mutant fighting force called the X-Men?" Trish questions._

"_Unless he's using it as a way to meet other women, I don't really see how that concerns me," Amanda smoothly replies._

"_How does it feel to be accused of bestiality?" Trish asks with a very smug tone, a smirk on her lips._

"_Miss Tilby, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you and the Ambassador date back in college?" Amanda counters, glaring at the other woman with her piercing green eyes._

"_Well, uh…," Trish stammers, caught completely by surprise._

"_And is also not true that _you_ broke up with him, stating that your studies were suffering from having a steady boyfriend?" Amanda demands._

"_Um, uh…," Trish tries to answer only to be interrupted once more._

"_Is it not also true that not only did you not have the courage to break up to the man's face, but that in fact you left an answer on the Ambassador's answering machine?" Amanda continues her interrogation, stepping into the reporter's personal space. "And you in fact broke up with him because of another man, _not_ because of your grades?"_

"_Oh, uh…," Trish stutters, taking a step back._

"_So my question for you, Miss Tilby, is this," Amanda pauses for effect. "Jealous?"_

_Before the other woman can react, Amanda steps around the reporter and marches into the building, head held high, leaving Trish there with her mouth hanging open and egg on her face. A few seconds later, a red faced Trish realizes the camera is still rolling quickly makes a slashing motion across her throat and the scene goes dark a moment later._

* * *

Hank sits there for nearly a minute still trying to wrap his mind around what he's just seen. Then, much to his personal assistant's relief, he starts to snicker which turns into a chuckle which finally turns into a full bellied laugh. By the time he's wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, Mary is smiling as well.

"I've decided to take a long lunch today, Mary," he tells her as he stands, stuffing the invitation into his coat pocket. "And unless the world is coming to an end, please just forward all calls to my voice mail."

"Yes, sir," she replies, a smile still on her lips.

With a bounce in his step, a mischievous glint in his eye and whistling a jaunty tune, he heads out for what he hopes will be a lovely lunch.

* * *

"Our latest offer was rejected, just as we knew it would be," Mr. Steele tells her. "How would you like to proceed?"

"Raise the offer by another two hundred," Amanda replies with an aggravated sigh. "If he doesn't accept this offer, I guess we'll have no choice but to see him in court."

"Even with his…_abilities_?" he questions, the strain in his voice evident with that last word.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll get hit by a bus on the way to the courthouse," she suggests, rubbing her temples to ease the headache she can feel coming on. "I don't know what else we can do. I can't afford to pay that much for a ruined dress."

"Very well, I'll let his lawyer know," he replies, sitting back in his huge leather desk chair. "Let's hope he takes it this time."

"At this point, hope is all I've got left," she sighs again as she gets up and heads for Steele's office door. "Thank you, Mr. Steele."

Steele merely nods as she leaves the room and she almost immediately runs into Mr. Jones.

"You don't look like a happy camper," he states, noting the rather less than pleased look on her face.

"First Tilby ambushes me right outside the building," she tells him. "Then there are pictures with me and the Ambassador and, dear Lord, I look like Hell in those shots. Finally, I just got done talking to Mr. Steele and it turns out James has rejected my latest offer."

"And it's only noon," he says jovially.

"Could this day get any worse?" she asks rhetorically.

"I don't know about worse, but it's definitely going to get more interesting," he smirks and she narrows her eyes at him. "Have a good lunch my dear."

With that, the portly man makes his way down the hall to his office and disappears through the door a second later. She stares at his door for a few moments more before shaking her head, shrugging and then heading back to her own office. She passes Sarah's empty desk and thinks nothing of it as she steps through her office door. She gets about halfway across the room before she's brought up short by what's waiting for her on her desk.

A beautiful bouquet of a dozen long stemmed red roses sits peacefully in the middle of her desk in a vase. She slowly takes the last couple of steps across the room to get to them and after determining there's no card, cautiously sniffs one of the heady blooms. She's so absorbed with the flowers that she never hears her office door quietly shut or realize that she's not alone in the room until a pair of strong arms circles her waist and pulls her flush with the body behind her. She lets out a startled squeak and her heart starts to pound in her chest, there's a moment of fight or flight instinct until a familiar deep chuckle sounds next her ear and warm, soft fur brushes against her neck and cheek.

"Do you like them?" he asks.

"They're beautiful, Hank, thank you," she answers as she closes her eyes and leans against him, her troubles and worries momentarily slipping away just because he's there. "What's the occasion?"

"Just because I think you're incredible," he replies as he rubs his cheek against hers.

"You're not so bad yourself," she softly tells him as she reaches up and strokes his mane of hair.

He turns her around before she can sink her fingers into that wonderful fur and gives her a long, slow kiss. By the time he lets her up for air, she's very glad that he's holding her up since she doesn't think her knees are up to the task. With a contented sigh, she rests her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck as he soothingly rubs his hand up and down her back.

"As much as I enjoy holding you, my dear, we should get going to lunch," he quietly tells her. "They won't hold our reservation forever."

"Lunch, smunch, I'm happy right here and I'm not moving," she mumbles and her tummy picks that moment to let its presence be known.

"Your stomach thinks otherwise," he chuckles as he carefully pulls her arms off of his neck while taking a step back and she looks down at her midsection.

"Traitor," she tells the rebellious body part before pulling away from him. "Let me get my purse and let Sarah know that I'm going out."

"Oh, Sarah already knows," he tells her with a smile on his lips. "As well as Betty and Mr. Jones. Pleasant chap, Mr. Jones. Nothing at all like his nephew."

"Attila the Hun would be a pleasant chap compared to James," she nearly growls as she retrieves her purse from her desk.

"More trouble from the cad, I take it," he says.

"He's rejected the latest offer to settle out of court," she sighs. "Between him, Trish Tilby and those photos in the paper my day was going right down the toilet until about five minutes ago."

"And what happened five minutes ago?" he asks, pulling her into his arms

"A blue angel came and rescued me," she answers as her arms make their way around his neck again.

"Now I'm tempted to ask when you met one of the Navy's stunt pilots and how did I miss him," he jokes and her only response is to give him a long hard kiss that leaves him panting for more reasons than one.

_Mate_, Beast purrs again, sending Hank all sorts of interesting things his primal self would like to do with her.

Before he can react, she pulls herself out of her arms and marches out through the office door, intentionally swaying her hips. It takes him a few seconds to regain enough of his wits to realize what she's done. He quickly gives chase with much encouragement by Beast but she moves faster than he thought she would and it's not until they're almost to the door that leads to the front lobby that he catches up with her.

Before he can grab her, a man who appears to be around fifty with quickly graying hair, comes around the corner and spots them. While Mr. Jones is fairly short, portly and jovial, this man is tall, in excellent shape and doesn't look to have so much as an ounce of good humor. The instant the man sees them, he goes stiff with pent up anger and hatred and before Hank can react, he suddenly finds himself grabbed and shoved through the doorway into the lobby.

"See you later, Betty," Amanda calls as she continues to push Hank through the lobby.

"Have a good lunch," Betty replies, amusement tingeing her words.

As soon as the outer door is closed, Hank puts on the breaks and Amanda finds herself trying to push a blue brick wall down the corridor.

"Please explain," he requests as she steps back and takes a deep breath.

"That was Steven Steele," she tells him as she begins to head for the elevators and he follows her. "One of my bosses."

"He didn't seem to be a very pleasant fellow, unlike Mr. Jones," he observes.

"That's putting it mildly," she snorts.

She pushes the call button and practically jumps out of her skin when it dings a second later. He follows her in and he can smell the fear rolling off of her in waves. He touches her arm and she gives an involuntary twitch.

"My stars and garters, you're shaking like a leaf," he states in surprise as he quickly pulls her into his arms. "Does the man frighten you that much?"

"I was more worried that he'd try to punch you than anything else," she admits as she gladly lays her head on his shoulder.

"He hates mutants that much?" he asks, holding her close.

"He has his reasons," she replies as she buries her face in the fur on his neck.

"Care to explain?" he requests as he rubs her back.

"He had a nephew in the special services branch of the military," she quietly tells him. "Mr. Steele considered him the son he never had."

"What happened to the boy?" he inquires.

"He was protecting Worthington Industries on Alcatraz last summer," she replies unhappily and closes his eyes as a wave of sadness and regret come over him. "They have yet to find his body."

"We all lost people we cared about that day," he sadly states as he holds her closer and a shiver runs through her body.

* * *

In California, a distinguished gentleman happily hums to himself as he finishes clipping out a black and white photo from the newspaper. He gets up from his seat and goes over to a wall were several other similar pictures hang. A thumb tack floats up out of the bowl that its brothers still lie in and pierces the paper and then the wall with its sharp point.

The man looks at his collage and smiles, though it is a smile that would make a junkyard dog cringe in fear. As he admires his handy work, he sees one of the shadows in the room move unnaturally out of the corner of his eye.

"I certainly hope you brought me good news this time, Shade," he says, not bothering to turn around.

The sound of someone crashing to the floor is his only answer and he spins around to see what is going on.

"PYRO!"


	40. Lunch Time

**Author's Notes**: Thank you theNightEnchantress, LifeBringsMeOnlyTears, LovelyLadyJem, Snape's Opera Rose, Takerslady, dog youkai jane, Jedi-Girl8900, AngerManagementIssues45 and halleyjo for your reviews.

* * *

"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the President's Holiday Celebration?" he asks, handing her the invitation.

"So, taking me out to lunch and giving me flowers were just to soften me up, was it?" she teases after quickly reading the card in her hand.

"If I was trying to soften you up, I would have taken you out to dinner and gotten a few drinks in you first," he replies, a smile on his blue lips. "Of course, come to think of it, if I did get you drunk than you could just say later that you don't recall agreeing to go."

"Getting me drunk wouldn't do you any good any ways, all I do is giggle," she points out as she reaches into her purse and pulls out her PDA. "Let me check my calendar. Ok, I'm supposed to go down to my parent's the day before this little shindig, but I can delay that by a couple of days. If I take the train down to DC Friday night and then take the train Sunday morning to my parent's place, it should work out fine. Of course my mom will be sure my immortal soul will never recover with me missing church, but I can deal."

"Since I'll be driving down anyways, I wouldn't mind giving you a ride that Friday," he offers.

"Ok, that'll would be fine," she agrees with a nod as she starts to make changes to her calendar. "What about a hotel? Any you recommend?"

"I'll take care of the hotel," he replies and she goes perfectly still. "I will, of course, book separate rooms for the both of us."

"Ok, that'll be good," she says in relief, but a little part of her is disappointed. "I'll have to go shopping for a dress. That'll make Doug's day when he finds out."

"I was unaware that you didn't have a dress," he says. "I'd be willing to pay for it."

"That's very sweet of you, but I think I can manage," she responds with a smile for him. "Besides, if Doug found out that you were paying for it, I'd find myself being dragged off to have a dress custom made. It's saner and cheaper to just let me pay for it."

"He wouldn't really…?" he starts.

"In a heartbeat," she chuckles. "The man's almost as crazy as my family, especially when it comes to clothes shopping. You should see his closet."

"Clothes horse?" he inquires, eyebrows raised.

"A herd's worth," she snickers and he laughs. "He has a two bedroom apartment for the closet space."

"Does this mean you'll be my date?" he questions, realizing that she hasn't really given an answer.

"I'd be delighted to go with you," she answers with a smile and then a frown creases her brow. "Is there any way to find out if James is going?"

"I can ask around, but even if he is, I will make certain the cad behaves himself," he states firmly. "If not, I'm sure I can figure out a way to be rid of the lowly cur."

"I don't want you to get in trouble," she replies.

"Trust me, it'll be my pleasure and the consequences be damned," he responds as he takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. "Anything for my beautiful lady."

She can feel her cheeks starting to heat up as well as other areas of her body as he stares intently at her. Luckily, the server arrives just in time to save her dignity and quite possibly her sanity with the arrival of their lunches. He reluctantly releases her hand as the plates are put down before them and they pick up their utensils.

"I must say, my dear, I was most impressed with your performance this morning," he tells her after they've taken a few bites.

"Excuse me?" she asks in bewilderment. "What performance?"

"Your, ah, 'interview' with Trish," he answers. "Since you're wearing the same outfit as the one in the video, I'm assuming it was filmed this morning."

"How did you know about that?" she questions, her heart starting to pound in terror. "I didn't think The Star Report comes on until later this evening."

"Oh, it doesn't," he assures her. "However, the raw footage is up on youtube already."

"Oh, sweet Jesus," she moans as she puts down her fork and closes her eyes. "If my mother ever sees that, I'm as good as dead."

"Because you're dating me?" he inquires, preparing for the worse.

"Because I didn't tell her about you," she replies, opening her eyes and looking affectionately at him. "Don't forget, my family is insane."

"I still want to meet them," he reminds her.

"I know," she sighs while she picks her fork up. "And I one level, I want you to meet them. But on another, I remember how they were when I brought Doug home. I'd hate to think what would happen if they found out you were the real deal."

"Perhaps they learned their lesson when you brought home Doug," he suggests.

"Maybe, but I doubt it," she grumbles. "They're a bunch of crazy people."

"So you keep saying," he chuckles as he resumes eating.

"I wonder how the video got onto youtube," she muses a few minutes later.

"I don't know, but I can pretty much guarantee that Trish didn't do it," he replies. "She had so much egg on her face she probably could have made an omelet."

"Vile woman," she growls. "What did you see in her?"

"She's a very pleasant woman, or at least she was in the early part of our relationship," he answers. "Though she did seem to enjoy gossip and rumors a bit more than I thought healthy, but she was able to make a career out of it. I guess she took what I felt was a weakness and made it into a strength."

"I hardly think ambushing people and asking them embarrassing questions is a strength," she nearly snarls.

"And yet you handled yourself beautifully," he reminds her.

"I'm a lawyer, it's my job to be able to think quickly on my feet," she points out irritably.

"Perhaps a change of subject is in order," he suggests. "The current one seems to be upsetting you."

"Ok," she agrees. "What do you want to talk about? Religion? Politics?"

"Ice cream toppings," he replies with a smile.

"Uhg," she groans. "You sure you don't want to talk about politics?"

"Positive," he grins. "Where in the world did you and Doug come up with those interesting terms for ice cream toppings?"

"Religion?" she suggests hopefully.

"Ice cream toppings."

"Weather?"

"Ice cream toppings."

"Sports?"

"Ice cream toppings."

"Damn, you're as stubborn as I am," she grumbles.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he chuckles. "Now, please, my dear, do tell."

She lets out a sigh and her shoulders sag in defeat, but she stays quiet for a few moments as she gathers her thoughts.

"Shortly after I turned twenty-one, Doug took me out to dinner," she starts to tell him, staring at her food instead of looking at him, pushing it around her plate. "Afterwards we ended up at his apartment."

"It's a good thing I know Doug is gay or I would be concerned about his true intentions," he murmurs and that earns him a glance out of the corner of her eye.

"At any rate, it turns out Doug's real reason for inviting me over was to get me drunk," she continues, looking back at her lunch. "He felt I hadn't truly experienced alcohol until I had puked my guts out."

"Oh dear," he mutters.

"So, here we are, at his apartment, drinking shots of tequila and eating sundaes and that's when I find out that when I'm drunk I will giggle at anything, no matter how absurd," she states, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of red. "We had the toppings all lined up and I commented how his caramel sauce looked like cod liver oil and he pointed out that the dark chocolate topping I had looked like tar. Well, things disintegrated from there and every time one of us would suggest what one of the toppings looked like, we'd both start laughing. God, I was laughing so hard I was crying."

"So, did you get sick?" he asks out of morbid curiosity.

"Sweet Jesus, did I throw up," she moans at the memory. "At one point I was expecting my socks to come up."

"You must have had one doozy of a hangover the next day," he laughs.

"Dear God, the pain was unbelievable," she groans. "To make matters worse, I had class the next day."

"Oh no," he moans in sympathy, trying not to laugh.

"The law professor I had first thing in the morning had a gavel on his desk," she says. "When he wanted to drive a point home, he would bang it on his desk and if someone was dozing off in class, well, let's just say the school didn't tend to give his classroom any new desks unless they had to. He took great delight in tormenting me that morning."

"I can't imagine Doug was in any better condition," he states.

"Oh, but Doug is a couple years older than me and had experience with pacing himself," she tells him. "The snot had one shot to my every two."

"The cad," he huffs, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"I told him if he ever brought a bottle of tequila near me again, he was going to need an urologist to get the worm out," she growls playfully and he can feel Beast stir in response.

"I certainly hope he heeded your warning," he chuckles.

"He has, but that's a night I won't soon forget," she replies. "No matter how hard I try."

He can't help but laugh and she snickers along with him despite how red her cheeks are. There's a comfortable lull in the conversation as they go back to eating their lunches. A short time later she's pushing her plate away while he takes his final bite and quickly thinks of something else to talk about.

"Have you heard from Serena lately?" he asks.

"Yeah, I got an email from her the other day," she answers. "She's doing well, her classes are going much better than they were back at her old school and she's getting along better with the other kids. The latest gossip is that Rogue and Bobby have officially broken up, Ororo and Kurt are an official couple as they were caught kissing in Ororo's rose garden and Kitty is still grounded for life for doing something with Logan and a bird. I'm not entirely sure what that's all about and I'm not sure I want to know. Oh, and a new boy came in the day after Thanksgiving that she thinks is _really_ cute."

"Aah, for the carefree days of youth," he chuckles.

"There were advantages to it, but I wouldn't want to go through that again," she replies.

"Why not?" he asks. "No real responsibilities, you got free room and board, no taxes to pay, no rent due…"

"Acne, puberty, boys being immature idiots to get your attention and the boy who you wish would notice you was always interested in either your best friend or your sister," she counters.

"Ouch," he grimaces. "I take it you experienced that first hand."

"I had the biggest crush on this guy from church," she tells him as she picks her napkin up off of her lap. "I spent weeks getting to know this guy, what his likes and dislikes are and thought we were getting along great and then one day he asked me to introduce him to my sister. That was the end of that. I guess it's kind of set up the way my relationships usually turn out."

"Hopefully not all of your relationships," he says as he takes her hand, kisses the back of it and then picks up his drink. "Whatever happened to the cad?"

"He's now my brother-in-law," she answers, getting her napkin up barely in time as he sprays his drink.

"You did that on purpose," he accuses, eyes narrowed though there's a smile tugging at his lips.

"I'm the evil one, remember?" she reminds him with a grin.

"You'll pay for that," he warns as he snatches her napkin and starts to wipe his face off.

"Be careful," she counters, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You wouldn't want to go to that party by yourself, would you?"

"Oh, now you are being wicked," he chuckles low in his throat.

"Wicked, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder," she replies as she reaches over and gently strokes some of his mane that's fallen into his face, pushing it back in its proper place.

He easily captures that hand and places a kiss on the palm of it, sending an electric jolt right down between her legs. She takes in a sharp breath and he can see her eyes dilate. The smell of her arousal quickly causes his own body to react in kind and it's only the arrival of their server asking if they would care for dessert that keeps him from doing anything foolish right there in the middle of the restaurant.

They both quickly decline and after the server leaves with their dirty plates, Amanda excuses herself to use the lady's room. He watches her go, unable to tear his eyes away from the gentle sway of her hips. Once she's out of sight, he closes his eyes and attempts to reign in his rampaging libido.

_Mate_, Beast purrs, urging Hank to follow her and perhaps join her in the handicap stall with the intention on relieving a different kind of pressure.

"You're _not_ helping," he quietly growls at his primal self as he quickly imagines Logan in a skort again causing Beast to hiss in disapproval.

By the time she returns, the cheque has been paid and his blood has returned to its supposed to be. He graciously offers his arm and she gladly accepts it as he escorts her back to the car. All too soon, they're standing in front of the elevators in the building that she works in.

"It's probably best you don't come back up," she tells him regretfully. "I'd rather not have an episode with Mr. Steele."

"The last thing in the world I would want is to cause trouble between you and your boss," he replies and gently smiles. "Well, more trouble at any rate."

"Thank you," she says as she slips into his arms. "For lunch and the flowers."

"You're very welcome," he responds.

He holds her closer as he captures her lips in a slow, languid kiss and doesn't release her until the need for air forces him to. They stand there just holding onto each other, catching their breaths as people move around them on their way back to their jobs. When they finally separate, she looks up at him and chuckles while she reaches up and starts to rub her thumb across his lips.

"Is this form of farewell that I was previously unaware of?" he asks in amusement.

"I don't think my lipstick really matches your skin tone," she snickers and he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief.

"I believe you're correct," he agrees after wiping his mouth with the bit of cloth and observing the red stain left behind. "It doesn't do a thing for me."

She laughs, gives him another quick kiss and then steps away.

"I should get back to work," she reluctantly tells him.

"As should I," he replies as he sadly watches her go.

"Will I see you Saturday?" she asks as she steps into an elevator.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he answers.

"Good, see you then," she calls as the elevator doors start to close.

He waves just before they shut and he stands there for several seconds after she's gone. With a sigh that's part contentment and part sadness, he turns and heads back to his own job with the feeling that he could take on any blowhard politician and win.

* * *

"How is she?" he demands as the much younger man with slicked back blond hair emerges from Shade's room.

"She'll be alright," Pyro assures him while they start to walk down the hallway. "She's got some cuts and bruises, a few broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder and a minor concussion. The doctor gave her some pain medication, but we're to keep an eye on her to make sure the concussion isn't as bad as it seems."

"Did she say anything to you or the doctor about her mission?" the older man asks.

"All she said was that she found her," Pyro replies as they step into an office. "Magneto, is it worth going through all of this just to find someone who obviously doesn't want to be found?"

"Whether or not she wishes to be found is of little relevance," Magneto tells him while he takes a seat at his desk. "I need to know if her powers have returned and if they have, then she belongs with us."

"If her reaction to Shade is any indication, I doubt Mystique feels the same way," Pyro replies as he goes to look at the pictures pinned to the wall. "I see you've added a new picture to your collection. When are we going to be paying the _Ambassador_ a visit?"

"All in due time, my dear boy, all in due time," Magneto answers with a smirk. "I want to make sure McCoy's welcome is _extra_ special."


	41. Moving Day

**Author's Notes:** Thank you LovelyLadyJem, Takerslady, Music is my Muse, Erisah Mae, the NightEnchantress, halleyjo, dog youkai jane and Mythigal for your reviews. The muse is back in X-Men mode so it looks like my other stories are on hold again. Bother.

* * *

"So, how was your week, my dear?" Hank asks as he helps Amanda load up the dolly for another trip out to the moving truck.

"Ok, I guess," she answers while she hands him another box and he puts in on top of the pile. "Betty loved the fact that there were even more photos of us in Tuesday's paper, Mr. Jones found out he's going to be a grandfather again and Sarah's niece just got engaged. On the down sound, Mr. Steele all but has smoke coming out of his ears every time he sees me, Annie wants me to baby sit for a weekend so she and Mike can get away for a while otherwise she's going to show that video of me with Tilby to my parents and James has turned down my latest offer for the dress. We'll probably have a court date sometime after the New Year."

"And here I thought my six meetings, three luncheons and two speeches qualified as a busy week," he chuckles as he straps the boxes to the cart.

"That was just the extra stuff, don't even get me started on all of the research and phone calls I had to make," she replies while she picks up another box and waits for him to head for the door. "I'd bore you to death."

"I don't think it's possible for you to bore me," he responds as he takes the box from her, picks up a couple more and lets her push the cart out of the apartment.

"I'm glad to know I have entertainment value," she jokes while they head for the elevator.

"You are much more than entertainment," he tells as he leans over for a quick kiss when they stop.

"Oh?" she questions with a raised eyebrow and he rests his forehead against hers.

"You have become a soothing balm to my soul," he whispers and he smiles as she turns a lovely shade of pink.

She's saved from trying to come up with a reply with the 'ding' of the elevator doors and she quickly pushes the dolly into the small compartment. He quietly follows her in, the smile still on his lips and he carefully puts his boxes on the floor as the doors shut behind him. The instant the doors shut, he pulls her into his arms and she gladly buries her face into the fur on his neck, breathing in his scent.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Yeah," she sighs contentedly. "Can't say you're so bad for the soul either."

He chuckles as he nuzzles her hair and they gladly hold onto each other until they feel the elevator stop. They quickly separate before the doors open and he picks up his boxes just as the doors slide apart. They step out just as Maggie and Doug walk through the front doors of the building and the friends get disappointed looks on their faces.

"Darn, I was hoping to catch them being naughty," Doug pouts.

"Man, that wasn't even enough time for a quickie," Maggie teases and Amanda can feel her cheeks starting to burn.

"I can assure you, my dear Miss Maggie, that if our relationship evolves to that stage, I would most certainly not be interested in a 'quickie'," Hank states confidently as he marches through the lobby. "That is something that I would take great delight in spending hours to accomplish."

Amanda nearly faints as all the blood leaves her face and heads straight for her groin. She convulsively swallows as she pushes the hand cart towards the exit on wobbly legs, hoping she can make it out of there without making a fool of herself. By the time she makes it to the moving truck, she's regained some semblance of control and she quickly goes to undo the bungee cords that are holding the boxes in place.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Hank asks as he hands his boxes up to the people waiting in the truck.

"Oh, I'm fine," she nearly squeaks and quickly clears her throat.

"I'm sure you are," he purrs in her ear as he leans over to help her unload the dolly.

Her breath catches in her throat as she can feel the hairs on her arms stand on end and the spot between legs really starts to heat up even more. She swallows the groan that wants to come out and takes a firm hold of a box to try and steady her hands. It doesn't help that her hair is pulled up into a ponytail and everyone can see her blushing so hard that even her neck is red.

"Ah crap," says a voice from the truck and Amanda and Hank immediately look up at the owner.

"What's wrong, Ron?" she asks.

"Nothing, I just owe Doug ten bucks now," Ron grumbles.

"What for?" Hank inquires.

"Doug said that she'd be blushing within an hour of us getting here this morning," Ron answers, waving a hand towards Amanda. "I didn't believe him."

"That'll teach ya," she snorts as she hands her box up to Ron.

"I know, I know," Ron moans as he takes the offered item. "Never make bets with a stock broker."

Hank chuckles and then goes perfectly still, he sniffs the air, his hackles rise and an involuntary growl escaping his throat.

"What's wrong?" she asks, immediately concerned and Ron looks a bit nervous.

"It's Jeff," Hank nearly snarls with displeasure.

"Great," she groans.

She steps away from the moving truck to look up and down the street and immediately spots her ex-boyfriend. To add insult to injury, she can see Bobbi is with him and she lets out a small growl of her own when she sees that Jeff is hauling along Bobbi's luggage. One quick glance at Bobbi and it's obvious that she's been crying and Jeff looks like he's ready to spit nails.

"Mandy!" Bobbi yells and Hank can see the muscles in Amanda's neck and shoulders bunch up in anger.

"Bobbi," Amanda replies coolly.

Bobbi lets out a dramatic sob and hurls herself at Amanda and Amanda barely gets her arms out of the way as the shorter woman wraps her arms around the lawyer's torso, burying her face in the other woman's chest. Amanda has a look on her face as if she's being hugged by the Creature from the Black Lagoon and Jeff gets a smirk on his face that Hank wants to rip off. Both Bobbi and Jeff are so intent on Amanda, that by some strange twist of fate, they don't notice the big, blue furry man standing behind her.

"He doesn't love me any more, Mandy," Bobbi sobs and the look of revulsion on Amanda's face doesn't change.

"So what are you doing here?" Amanda demands. "As if I didn't already know the answer."

"She's moving back with you," Jeff sneers slightly out of breath.

"What an interesting coincidence," Amanda says with false cheerfulness. "I'm moving today too. So, if Bobbi wishes to rent my old apartment, I'm sure the building manager would love to talk to her. Of course, she'll have to prove that she has a source of income and since I doubt Bobbi has a job that might be a bit difficult."

"No way, bitch," Jeff snarls as he dumps Bobbi's bags on the ground. "You're taking her."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Amanda replies, still holding her arms up since putting them down means touching Bobbi. "My new apartment has only one bedroom."

"But then where will you sleep?" Bobbi asks.

"In my bed, in my bedroom," Amanda answers coldly.

"But you told me you don't do girls," Bobbi states, still confused.

"By myself," Amanda grinds out between her teeth as she grabs the other woman's arms and starts trying to peel her off. "You are _not_ moving in with me again, Bobbi."

"But Jeffie doesn't want me anymore," Bobbi whines, holding on tighter. "He says I gave him a sexually transmuted disease."

"That's sexually _transmitted_ disease, you dumb slut," Jeff corrects angrily. "I'm out of here. She's all yours, _Mandy_."

Jeff turns and makes a break for it, running smack dab into Hank and knocking himself onto his butt. Amanda's not sure when Hank moved or how he did it so quietly or so quickly, but she has a very strong desire to kiss the man. Of course, that will require the removal of the human sized barnacle currently attached to her.

"Going somewhere?" Hank congenially asks with a raised eyebrow and towering over Jeff.

"Holy shit, not you again," Jeff gasps.

Jeff starts trying to crab walk backwards to get away from Hank just as Bobbi turns around to see who he's talking to. The instant she lays eye on Hank, she lets out an ear piercing scream that has Jeff, Amanda and Hank slapping their hands over their ears. Suddenly, Bobbi releases Amanda and then dives to the ground to try and hide behind Jeff.

"Protect me, Jeffie, it's one of those horrible muties," Bobbi shrieks and it takes a great deal of restraint for Hank not to growl at the woman.

"What did you just call my boyfriend?" Amanda demands in a threatening voice, getting right in the other woman's face.

"You're boyfriend!?" Bobbi squeaks. "You mean you're actually sleeping with that thing?"

"Just because you have the morals of a cat in heat, doesn't mean the rest of us do," Amanda snarls. "Now get your things and get out of my sight. If either one of you comes near me again, I'll have a restraining order placed on both of you."

"What's a restraining order?" Bobbi asks, visibly shaking.

"It's a court order saying that if you come within five hundred feet of me, you can be arrested," Amanda tells her heatedly.

"You'd have me arrested?" Bobbi whimpers.

"In a heartbeat," Amanda growls back.

"You can't put a restraining order on us," Jeff shoots back, finding a little bit of bravado despite being in Hank's shadow.

"Care to test that theory?" Amanda challenges with eyes narrowed.

Jeff stares at those cold, hard green eyes glaring back at him for several seconds before he scrambles to his feet and then drags Bobbi to hers. He quickly gathers up her luggage, shoving a couple of the pieces into her arms, grabs her and then takes off the way they had come from. The sound of people laughing and cheering startles Amanda and she realizes that her friends have been watching this little altercation.

Without a word, she returns to the back of the moving truck and finishes unloading the dolly. When that's done, she marches back inside, Hank following quietly in her wake. He watches her pensively, her face a cold hard mask and her stony silence have him a bit worried. Once they're back in the apartment, she goes into the spare bedroom and sets the hand cart off to the side.

"Hank, can I speak to you in private for a moment?" she asks, not quite looking at him.

"Of course," he replies.

She leads him into the master bedroom and quietly shuts the door behind him. He turns to face her and suddenly finds her arms firmly around his and her lips on his. He quickly gets over his shock, wraps his arms her and deepens the kiss.

He none to gently pushes her against the wall next to the door and they both moan with need. He starts to grind his hips against her and a small part of his brain knows that this is completely improper, but the smell of her arousal has The Beast taking over. He pulls away from her lips and starts to work his way along her jaw down to her ear and neck as she gasps for air, trying to keep from letting out loud groans of desire.

"Hank," she whispers in a strangled voice.

His only response is a possessive growl that sends shivers down her spine and straight to that magical place between her legs. When one of his hands brushes the side of one of her breasts, all coherent thought is lost and he takes advantage of it by grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist. He continues to grind his hips into her and even though they're both wearing jeans, she can feel his excitement.

"Hank, we have to stop," she pants quietly when she's able to force her brain to work.

He just snarls as he bites her neck hard enough to make her gasp and cups one of her breasts in his hand.

"Hank, please stop," she softly begs and his body suddenly goes still.

The Man battles with The Beast for dominance as he continues to pin her to the wall, his breathing heavy and uneven. His body trembles with pent up energy, fighting the need to give in to his primal urges and only barely managing to succeed. She's not doing much better and she buries her face in the fur on his neck as her fingers sink into his thick main.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Then why did you ask me in here?" he asks, the strain evident in his voice.

"I wanted to thank you for helping me with Bobbi and Jeff without getting teased by my friends," she answers sadly.

"You can still thank me properly," he teases. "The bed's right over there."

"Not possible," she replies, the smile evident in her voice.

"Why not?" he questions.

"Well, for one," she starts, suddenly slamming her fist against the door and several muffled 'ow's can be heard from the other side, "the door has ears."

"And two?" he prompts, slowly stepping away from the wall and letting her feet return to the floor.

"We don't have hours to spend on a 'quickie'," she grins, leaning back to see his face.

"No, I suppose we don't," he agrees with a dramatic sigh before grinning himself.

They both have a good chuckle and then she turns serious.

"We should talk about us and where this relationship is going," she says in all seriousness.

"Agreed," he replies as he cups her cheek in his hand and she closes her eyes, reveling in his gentle touch. "But I don't think this is the time or the place."

"Agreed," she quietly echoes. "We better get out there before they get a camera and come bursting in."

He reluctantly lets her go and with a sad sigh, she steps away from him. She opens the bedroom door and there's the conspicuous sound of people suddenly being very busy. She just rolls her eyes and shakes her head as she steps into the main living area of the apartment and people are very studiously helping her move.

"My friends," she mumbles.

"Have come to help you move," he quietly points out from behind her.

"Yeah, but real friends help you move bodies," she shoots back with a grin over her shoulder and he has to laugh at that one.

* * *

Hours later, Amanda, Hank and her merry band of moving helpers are sitting around in her new apartment after eating more pizza and beer than should be humanly possible. She's cuddled up next to Hank on the couch, ignoring the latest embarrassing story that her dear friends are telling her boyfriend. He's gently stroking her now loose hair and she's practically asleep when Doug claps his hands together.

"Ok, girlfriend, it's time for dessert," Doug announces and Amanda cracks an eye open to look at her best friend.

"And what's for dessert?" Amanda asks, already knowing the answer and biding her time.

"Twinkie sundaes," he happily states.

"Oh, well, then I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint," she tells him closing her eye again.

"Why's that?" he demands.

"Well other than the ice cream and the toppings that have to be refrigerated, I have no idea where the Twinkies, bowls, spoons, ice cream scoop and the rest of the toppings are," she replies

"We cleared out your old apartment," he states. "So which box are they in?"

"I think they're in one of the boxes marked 'kitchen'," she answers and Doug and a couple of others quickly get up and charge to the other side of the spacious living area to find the appropriate boxes. "Or were they in the box marked 'food'?" A couple more friends get up and dash over to help the first group. "Of course they could be in one of the 'miscellaneous' boxes. It's been a long day and I don't remember any more."

The last of the friends get up and trudge over to the others, grumbling the entire way.

"You're being wicked again," Hank quietly teases after the others leave.

"Just getting back at them for all those embarrassing stories they've been telling," she mumbles.

She snuggles in closer to him, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. With a sigh of contentment, she relaxes and starts to drift off. He continues to stroke her hair, not even the promise of a life time supply of Twinkies will get him up off that couch and away from her and in the back of his mind he can hear Beast purring.

"Found it!" Maggie cries gleefully, causing the couple on the couch to jump.

"You found everything?" Doug asks excitedly.

"No! Just the ice cream scoop, but it's better than nothing," she answers and the others groan and go back to opening more boxes. "Hey, it's not like you guys have found anything yet."

"You spread them out between different boxes didn't you?" Hank softly asks and his only response is an evil snicker.

In due course, all of the ingredients and equipment are found and Amanda reluctantly gets off of the couch to make the desserts. Hank gets up to help, refusing to take no for an answer as he follows her into the kitchen. If everyone has to wait a little bit longer to get their sundaes than is really necessary, well, that's their own fault for leaving those two alone.

* * *

Tired and dusty, but satisfied of a job well done, Hank steps into his apartment and freezes the instant he shuts the door. There's someone else in the apartment and he takes a deep breath as all of his senses kick into high gear. As soon as he identifies the person's scent, he relaxes and steps into the living room, not bothering to turn on a light.

"Did it work?" Hank asks a shadow in the corner by the window.

"_Non_," comes the quiet answer.

"Very well," Hank sighs. "I'll let you know when I'm ready for another try."

The shadow simply nods and then is gone, the window barely opening and closing to allow passage. Hank turns on a light and picks up the small box sitting on the coffee table. He doesn't bother opening it up, but instead heads for the spare bedroom that he turned into a combination lab/workroom. He leaves the box on the work bench and heads for bed, hoping that he'll have the project completed on time.

* * *

'Friends help you move, real friends help you move bodies' – actual bumper sticker

Anyone care to guess who our shadowy visitor is.

_Non _– French, no


	42. Getting There

**Author's notes:** Thank you Takerslady, Mythigal and LifeBringsMeOnlyTears for your reviews. Life, you win extra cyber cookies for correctly guessing our shadowy guest.

* * *

"What does he see in me?" she asks almost rhetorically.

"You're asking me?" Doug scoffs from his side of the dressing room door. "Like I'd know?"

"You used to know once," she points out as she emerges from the dressing room in the latest gown.

"That was before I came to my senses," he replies as they head over to the triple mirrors.

"Look at me," she practically orders her best friend, staring at her multiple images. "My hips are too big, my breasts are too small and my face is too narrow."

"Well he must see something he likes," he points out. "He's hot to trot for you, girl."

"How can you be so sure?" she questions as she turns one way and then another to see how the dress hangs on her.

"He was practically panting when you were wearing just sweats," he answers while he critically eyes the dress. "I don't think this one's going to work."

"Yeah, I'm not thrilled with the skirt and pink really isn't my color," she agrees as she turns to head back to the small changing area. "So he's in lust, that's not something you can build a relationship on."

"How about you? How do you feel when you see him?" he asks, following in her wake.

"Just thinking about his kiss makes my skin tingle," she admits after she's closes the door. "If I don't hear from him in more than twenty-four hours I get depressed. Will you listen to me? I sound like some hormonal teenager."

"You're both crazy about each other, that's a start," he says as leans against the wall waiting for her.

"But what happens when the passion burns out?" she questions while she gets out of the pink chiffon thing she was wearing. "What's left?"

"When you two are together do you just make out and nothing else?" he inquires.

"No," she answers as she hangs the dress back up.

"What do you do?" he questions.

"We talk," she replies while she takes the next dress off of its hanger.

"About…?" he prompts.

"I don't know, different things," she responds as she examines the outfit she's holding. "About our families, what life was like growing up, our jobs, you know, stuff."

"See there's more there than lust," he points out. "I think these past couple weeks that you two have been apart have been good for you."

"Tell that to my sanity," she retorts. "I'm not sure I'm going to be able to make it to next Friday."

"You'll be fine," he tells her. "What's taking so long?"

"I'm trying to get into this dress," comes her muffled answer. "There are about fifty straps on this thing."

"Oh, is that the backless number?" he asks excitedly.

"Yeah, but it's a pain in the ass to get into," she replies with a grunt. "There! Finally got the blasted thing on."

"Well, let's see it," he nearly orders, standing up straight again.

"Just a sec, I'm still adjusting all of these straps," she says and there's several seconds of silence. "Ok, I think I've got it.

A moment later the door opens and she comes out and his jaw drops. He stares at her in stunned silence as she walks past him to the mirrors. She turns to look at the back of the dress over her shoulder and then turns back to face her reflection as he stands there a bit behind her with his mouth still hanging open.

"I'm not sure if stunning a gay man speechless is a good thing or a bad thing," she jokes as he steps up behind her and puts his hands on her shoulders.

"Sugar, if he doesn't make slow, sweet love to you after seeing you in this dress, he's gay," he states breathlessly and then he perks right up. "And if that's the case, can I have him?"

She elbows him in the gut and he gives out a grunt before stepping back with a stupid grin on his face.

"So, you think this is the one?" she asks as she turns around again.

"This is definitely the one," he assures her while she heads back to the dressing room.

"Good, 'cause I'm sick of trying on dresses," she admits. "Thank God that's done."

"Now all we need to do is get all the accessories to go with it," he happily chirps and she groans.

"You know, if he gets all hot and bothered from seeing this dress, we might not get out of the hotel," she points out as she steps back into the dressing room. "And if that's the case, why bother wasting the money on the dress? I might as well stop by Fredrick's of Hollywood and get something from there."

"You're right, he can't be allowed to see the dress until you get to the party," he replies as he starts to pace outside the dressing room door. "Ok, I've got an idea."

"Which is?" she prompts from behind the closed door.

"I'll show you later," he replies. "Now come on, we still need to get shoes and things."

"At least I won't have to worry about getting a new bra," she muses as lets the dress fall from her shoulders and tries not to think about Hank doing it for her in a week.

"Oh, you should get those stick on ones that way you're not bouncing all over the place," he tells her.

"I don't have enough boobs be bouncing all over the place," she retorts as she quickly puts the dress back on its hanger.

"You aren't flat, sugar," he assures her.

"I'm no Dolly Parton either," she retorts.

"Who would want to be?" he asks. "You'd always be in danger of falling over. But you should have something underneath that dress."

"Ok, I'll get a couple of king sized band aids and we'll call it even," she says as she pulls her own clothes on.

"Very funny, girlfriend," he snorts.

"Hey, is it my fault the Boob Fairy passed me over when I hit puberty?" she asks while putting her shoes on.

"The Boob Fairy?" he laughs.

She emerges from the dressing room with the dress in her arms and a grin on her face. He just shakes his head, drapes an arm across her shoulders and heads her towards the register.

* * *

"I can't believe I let you talk me into getting that negligee," she grumbles as they leave the mall hours later, both weighed down with their purchases.

"You'll thank me later," he says confidently as they make their way across the parking lot.

"And what do you think Hank will do when he finds out this was your idea?" she asks.

"He'll kiss my feet," he boldly states. "That's of course after he manages to climb out of bed after he makes love to you for hours on end."

"Is that all you can think about?" she demands. "Sex."

"Well, someone has to since you're too terrified to," he retorts as he unlocks the trunk of his car with the remote.

"Considering my track record, can you blame me?" she questions.

"No, but records are made to be broken," he replies as he helps her stow her packages. "Give him a chance, Amy. He may be the one."

"God, I hope you're right," she sighs and then turns to get in the car, wondering where this is all heading.

* * *

It's been nearly three weeks since he's seen her, their jobs and the insanity of the holiday season keeping them apart. Emails and phone calls have been their only form of contact since she moved and it's driven him to near distraction. The fact that she now lives only a few blocks away doesn't help either and then there's the matter of his little project that he had hoped to have completed by now.

There have been more failures then he cares to admit and it's frustrating beyond words, even for him. If this test run doesn't succeed, he's not sure what he's going to do. So, with more stress and frustration than he's used to, he returns to his apartment and immediately realizes he's not alone. He quietly closes the door and steps into the family room, not bothering with a light.

"Did it work?" Hank asks, no longer daring to hope and waiting for the inevitable '_non'_.

"_Oui_," the shadow answers and Hank doesn't believe his ears.

"It actually worked?" Hank questions, disbelievingly.

"Dat iz what Remy say, _non_?" Remy replies with a chuckle.

"It most certainly is," Hank responds as he leans against a wall in relief. "Thank you, Gambit."

"A friend of Stormy's iz a friend of Remy's, so any time," Remy says just before he disappears through the window.

As soon as he's sure the thief is gone, Hank turns on a light and finds the small box on the coffee table. He picks it up and opens it, the little golden treasure inside glitters benignly. He resists the urge to kiss it and goes to get it ready for its intended recipient.

* * *

"Damn," Amanda mutters as she drops yet another file, spilling papers all over the floor.

"Anything the matter?" Mr. Jones asks as he steps into her office, a cursory knock on her open door.

"No, I just seem to be all thumbs today," she grumbles as she bends down to pick up the file she dropped.

"How long has it been since you've seen him?" he questions as he gets down and helps her pick up the papers.

"Almost three weeks," she answers, her hands shaking, making it difficult to pick up the papers strewn across her floor.

"When's he supposed to get here?" he inquires, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh, eventually," she replies nervously.

"Uh-huh," he smirks. "When?"

"One hour and twenty-two minutes," she mumbles under her breath.

"Good," he says as the last piece of paper is retrieved and handed back to her. "Then you can stop being as jumpy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. If you're this jumpy after only a few weeks, I'd hate to see what you'll be like when he goes on some diplomatic trip over seas for a few months."

"It's not so much that I haven't seen him, it's just that…well…," she stammers.

"What is it?" he asks.

"It's just that Mr. Steele and Hank…," she tries to answer and he nods.

"I talked to Steven a little while ago, I strongly recommended that he leave a bit early," he tells her and she looks at him in surprise. "As we speak, he's in his office getting ready to leave."

"Thank you," she sighs with relief.

"Any time, my dear, any time," he smiles as he gets to his feet and leaves a much more relaxed woman behind.

* * *

After freshening up in the bathroom, she heads back to her office and as she's passing the lunch room, a pair of arms reaches out and grabs her. Before she can make a sound, she's pulled flush with a body she knows even though she hasn't seen or felt it in nearly three weeks. With a sigh, she relaxes against him and reaches up to sink her fingers into his mane.

"Miss me?" he purrs next to her ear, sending delightful shivers throughout her body.

"More than should legally be allowed," she whispers and he chuckles.

"Ready to go?" he asks, rubbing his cheek against hers.

"Yeah," she sighs, leaning against him and closing her eyes.

"Then don't you think we should get going?" he questions, amusement toning his words.

"Eventually," she hums as her fingers work their way down to his skin and she gently starts to scratch him there, causing his own case of shivers to cause havoc on his person.

He knows he should get her moving before he does something completely inappropriate in the room where people eat their lunches, but her nails are continuing their assault on his senses and it's getting harder to think. He knows he needs to remove her hands if he wants to have any hope of keeping the situation under control. He knows it, the problem is doing it.

He slides his hands across her belly and up her sides, gently caressing the small bit of skin exposed by her blouse pulling out of her slacks when she lifted her arms up. She lets out a startled squeak and her arms come down at record speed, pinning his hands between them and her sides. His surprise is only exceeded by his confusion, especially when she glares at him from over her shoulder.

"No fair tickling," she playfully snarls and he chuckles as he takes a hold of her sides in his large hands.

"All's fair in love and war, my dear," he says in a low rumbling voice and a shiver runs down her spine down to straight between her legs. "But if we wish to make DC before dawn, we should get going soon."

"I suppose," she sighs as she steps away and he reluctantly lets her go. "I guess jumping you in the lunch room isn't the best career choice."

"Only if Mr. Steele was still here," he replies as he follows her back to her office. "I have a feeling the others would be running for their cameras.

"Thank heaven Mr. Jones convinced him to leave early," she replies as they step into her office. "Let me grab my purse and coat and then we can skedaddle."

He calmly watches her gather her things, but when she bends over at the waist to get her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk, he lets out an involuntary groan.

"Are you alright?" she asks in concern as she straightens up.

"Oh, I'm fine," he answers in a slightly strained voice. "But we'd best be going before I find out whether or not your office door locks from the inside or out."

"Well, since you put it that way," she replies with a knowing smirk.

She saunters past him, brushing herself against him as she goes and it takes every ounce of self restraint not to grab her, throw her over his shoulder and run out of the building with her that way.

"You're playing with fire, my dear," he warns with a sexy growl as she locks her office door.

"Good, it'll keep me warm," she tosses back at him as she turns and walks away with hips swaying.

_Mate!_ Beast nearly roars and Hank quickly gets a handle on his primal self.

With exaggerated calm, he follows her out to the lobby where he finds her patiently waiting. With a hand on the small of her back, he carefully escorts her to the elevators. By shear luck, the car is empty when it arrives and they step inside as she reaches out and makes the floor selection.

As soon as the doors slide shut, she finds herself pressed against a wall by a mass of blue fur and his lips on hers. She gladly returns the affection as her body easily responds to him, but they have to quickly part when the elevator stops after only a few floors to take on more passengers. The new comers look at Hank in surprise, but say nothing as they turn around and face the doors. She's nearly panting while he has a very self satisfied look on his face and she knows that in a little over twenty-four hours, that's the look she'll be wearing.

* * *

_Oui_ – French, yes 


	43. The Talk

**Author's Notes:** Thank you Takerslady, Mythigal and Music is my Muse (x2) for your reviews.

* * *

"So, how was your day, my dear?" he asks after the server has taken their orders and left.

"Ok, I guess," she replies with a shrug. "Nothing major usually happens around this time of year. It's usually just doing the research and making the phone calls, so nothing exciting. How about you?"

"Actually, the UN isn't in session this time of the year so I just spent the day packing and tidying up my apartment," he tells her.

"You know, you've seen both of my apartments and I have yet to see yours," she casually mentions.

"It would be my great honor to show you my apartment when we're both back in New York," he replies, his voice dropping down into a sultry purr as he picks up her hand and kisses her palm.

"That didn't quite come out the way I meant it to," she says in a shaky voice and she looks at the hand that's holding hers. "We need to talk."

"Open communication is the way to understanding," he says as he laces her fingers through his. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Us," she quietly replies, continuing to stare at their hands.

"And what would you like to know about us?" he asks, keeping his voice calm and soothing as he rubs his thumb over hers.

"Where are we going?" she questions softly. "Is this a long term thing or are you simply looking for someone to keep your bed warm at night?"

"While I do desire you physically, I am most certainly not looking for a bed warmer," he answers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I would like nothing more than to spend the rest of my life getting to know you. And you? What are you hoping to get out of this relationship?"

"I would like someone I could spend the rest of my life with," she responds. "I would really like it if that person was you."

"That's good to hear," he says in a controlled voice, his thumb going still and his fingers loosening as if he's about to pull away.

"And if you don't think I desire you physically, then you haven't been paying attention," she states as she tightens her own digits around his and finally looks up at him with eyes dark with more than just friendship.

"Are we ready to take our relationship to that next level?" he inquires.

"My body is screaming 'yes', but my head is saying 'no'," she answers.

"Why the debate?" he asks.

"I haven't had the best luck when it comes to men," she admits.

"I understand," he replies. "You told me on our first date how you lose men because you refuse to sleep with them."

"I'm talking about before I made that decision," she tells him. "Since we're talking about it, I might as well get it over with. I've had sex all of twice in my life. The first time was ok and the second time was a complete disappointment."

"Ah," he says, a bit surprised by the sudden confession.

"When I'm around you, I want to be touched by you so bad that I'm on the verge of screaming," she says just before swallowing a lump in her throat.

"But…?" he prompts, knowing there's more.

"I'm afraid I'll be disappointed again," she states softly.

"Remember when I told Maggie that I would spend hours with you if we ever made love?" he asks and she nods. "You don't really think I would spend all of that time just seeking my own gratification do you?"

"God, I hope not," she replies in a breathless whisper.

"Now that you have given me your, ah, history, perhaps I should divulge mine," he says.

"I'm guessing Ororo and Tilby," she states. "Are there more that I should know about?"

"No, they're it," he admits and she gives a small sigh of relief. "I suppose I have the unfair advantage of never having met any of your past lovers."

Suddenly, her fork becomes very interesting and he stares at her in shock.

"I have met them, haven't I?" he questions.

"Him," she corrects, still studying her eating utensil. "I don't know where Keith is and I couldn't care less quite frankly."

"I'm guessing Keith was your second lover," he says and she nods her confirmation. "So I have met the first man to have the pleasure of your company in bed?"

She nods a 'yes', still admiring her fork.

"Is it one of your coworkers?" he asks worriedly.

She shakes her head 'no'.

"Then it's a friend," he sighs in a bit of relief. "Ron's a handsome man. Is it him?"

She shakes her head again.

"Well, if it's not Ron, then it must be Tim."

Her head shakes once more.

"Ryan?"

Shake.

"Sam?"

Shake.

"But that just leaves…"

"Yeah."

"But he's…"

"Yeah."

"Oh my stars and garters," he moans. "I know you don't have to tell me, but I would really like to know how _that_ happened."

"We were drunk," she admits.

"Your birthday," he states, a bit flabbergasted and a little more than horrified.

"Yeah," she admits.

"But he's…," he starts, still having trouble wrapping his mind around it.

"He hadn't quite come to terms with it yet," she tells him.

"So when did he come to terms with his homosexuality?" he asks a bit more forcefully than he intended.

"The next morning," she answers.

"Ouch," he winces in sympathy.

"Tell me about it," she grumbles. "I was sitting at his kitchen table staring at my coffee, trying to come to terms with the mother of all hangovers when he walked in, said, 'I think I'm gay' and then he walked out of the apartment."

"That must have hurt terribly," he says softly, his thumb resuming its rubbing. "I'm surprised that the two of you have remained friends."

"I grew up thinking that the first man I slept with would be my one true love," she continues, tightening her grip on his hand. "It shattered my faith in a lot of things when I realized that it wasn't true. I had known Doug for over a year and we had become instant best friends and to have him do that to me hurt me so bad that I didn't talk to him for nearly three months. It's was during that time when I met Keith. I thought we had a connection and then we slept together. I quickly found out that not only was I nothing more than a notch in his bedpost, but that I was to blame for not enjoying the sex."

"I certainly hope that I never meet this cad," he growls. "Otherwise, I might do terrible things to him."

"I'd hold your coat and sell tickets to it if you did," she tells him fervently. "After that fiasco, I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I guess the good that came out of the whole mess is that Doug came and found me, groveled for forgiveness and then showed me that there's life after stupidity."

"So that's why he's so concerned about your love life," he muses.

"Yeah, a little _too_ concerned sometimes," she sighs and then gives a small smile. "But I love him enough not to kill him even when does interrupt a first kiss."

"It must have been torture for him not to be told about our date," he says.

"Especially after he saw the dress I bought for it," she chuckles.

"You do delight in making people think you're evil, don't you?" he teases.

"A girl's got to have some fun," she smirks.

"Incorrigible," he chuckles as he raises her fingers to his lips and her breath catches in her throat.

Before anything more can happen, their dinners arrive and reluctantly, they have to let go of each other. They eat in silence for a little while before a disturbing thought makes her stomach twist.

"Were you able to find out if James was invited?" she asks, fear gnawing at her gut.

"I did receive a list of everyone who was invited and James was not on the list," he answers and she gives out a sigh of relief. "However, that doesn't mean he didn't get invited as someone's guest."

"Well, here's to hoping he couldn't find someone to bring him along," she says quietly.

"I promise, if the cad should be there, he will not lay one hand on you," he swears.

"How can you be so sure?" she questions.

"I have my ways," he answers mysteriously.

"What have you got up your sleeve, Ambassador?" she asks suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

"Nothing but my arm, I assure you," he responds jovially.

"You're up to something," she accuses, trying to keep the smile off of her lips.

"Six foot one and holding," he tells her with a grin and she can't help but chuckle.

"Now who's being incorrigible?" she inquires with a snicker.

"I prefer the term mysterious," he replies with a smile.

"Sneaky and devious is more like it," she teases just before she takes a bite of food.

"I resent that comment," he responds in a fake huff.

"More like resemble it," she tosses back, unable to keep the smile off of her lips.

"You're playing with fire again, young lady," he playfully warns, waggling a finger at her.

"Since it's supposed to snow tonight, I don't mind," she says. "I'll be nice and warm."

"I can think of other ways to keep you warm," he purrs and she can feel all of the right places tingling.

"Is now a bad time to mention that I'm not on the pill?" she moans, part in need, part in regret.

"Then it's a good thing that I stopped by the drug store earlier today," he whispers in her ear and she can't stop the small groan that escapes.

"We're still in separate rooms, right?" she asks in a hushed whisper.

"Yes, but I did ask for conjoining rooms," he answers softly.

"Are we taking this too fast?" she softly asks.

"Probably, but I don't want to slow down," he tells her truthfully.

"God, if my parent's ever find out about this weekend, I'm dead meat," she groans.

"You can always back out if you want," he tells her, every part of him begging and pleading with any higher power that she won't change her mind.

"I didn't spend all that time picking out a dress not to wear it," she tells him bluntly with a sly look on her face.

"Yes, I noticed the garment bag," he says. "I hope it wasn't too much trouble to pick out."

"No, Doug and I made a day of it," she replies. "The only problem was keeping him out of the men's department. That man needs another suit like I need another hole in my head."

"Do I get to see the dress before tomorrow night?" he asks.

"No," she answers coyly. "In fact, you won't get to see it until we're at the party."

"Hardly seems fair," he pouts.

"You'll understand tomorrow," she tells him as she finishes her dinner.

"Must be some dress," he muses.

"You have no idea," she chuckles.

* * *

Several hours later they finally arrive at The Hays-Adams Hotel, getting there just as the first fat snow flakes start to drift down to the earth. The trunk is unloaded as quickly as possible onto a waiting luggage cart and they hustle inside, grateful to be out of the bitter cold. He quickly goes to check them in while she leans against a pillar for support, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Once he has their keys, he goes and finds her almost asleep on her feet and he quietly chuckles. She manages to crack an eye open to look at him and he smiles at her. With a great deal of effort, she pushes herself off of the pillar and goes to lean on him. He gently wraps an arm around her waist to support her and then guides her over to the elevators.

By the time they reach the first room, he's nearly carrying her. He deposits her on the bed and then quickly goes to open the first door that joins their rooms. By the time he turns back around, she's pulling her dress boots off, though with a little bit of difficulty.

"Do you need help?" he asks.

"No, I think I've got it," she answers as she finally gets the second boot to let go of her foot. "Have our bags made it up yet?"

"Not yet," he replies just as there's a knock at the door. "But that's probably them right now."

He goes to answer the door while she tries to convince her fingers to grab hold of the zipper tongue on her coat so that she can get out of it. By the time the luggage is unloaded, the bellhop tipped and the door closed, she's still fumbling with the stupid thing. He quietly chuckles as he goes to help her and he can feel Beast stirring within him.

"Do you need help with anything else?" he questions as she slips her coat off.

"No, I should be good," she replies as she heads for the pile of luggage. "I just want to go to bed right now and sleep for the next couple of days."

"Well, I can definitely let you get some sleep, but I will have to wake you in time to go to the party," he tells her.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't pack this much," she states staring at the large pile of bags.

"Some of them are mine," he assures her as he picks up his stuff. "I'll be in the next room. Just knock on the door if you need anything."

"Ok," she sleepily agrees, only getting about half of what he said.

He smiles at her, gives her a gentle little kiss and then hands her the room key. He heads for his own room, Beast screaming at him the entire way and quickly stows his own items once he's through the door. After preparing for bed himself, he goes to check on her going through the attached doors to do so.

He finds her already fast asleep in her own bed and he resists the urge to crawl under the covers with her, but only just. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair out of her face and carefully kisses her cheek. She lets out a sigh as she slips into a deeper stage of sleep and with great reluctance, he returns to his room to get some much needed rest.


	44. Saturday

**Author's Notes:** Thank you Mythigal, Takerslady and Snape's Opera Rose for your reviews.

* * *

He wakes to the smell of coffee brewing and he inhales deeply before opening his eyes. He has a good long stretch and a yawn like a giant blue cat before throwing back the covers and then going to follow his nose. He soon finds himself in Amanda's room, but after a brief look around, he finds that there's no Amanda.

Before he can decide whether or not to go in search of the lady, he hears someone using the key card to open her door. Suddenly realizing that he's barely dressed and he's standing in a lady's room, he quickly dashes back to his own room just as the door swings open. He breathes a sigh of relief once he's in his room and then cringes when he hears her chuckling.

"I saw that," she teases and he pokes his head around the door.

"Saw what?" he asks innocently, noting that she's showered and dressed.

"You dashing back to your own room," she snickers as she dumps a bunch of little yellow packets next to the coffee maker.

"What do you have there?" he asks, still keeping most of his body hidden behind the door.

"Sweetener," she answers as she selects one and then flicks it a couple of times to get all of the powdery sweetness down to the other end. "They never give you enough with these coffee makers. So what were you doing in here anyways?"

"I woke to the smell of coffee and followed my nose until I found the source," he answers truthfully. "If I had been fully awake I would never have just burst into your room like that."

"Don't worry about it, I've been awake for a while," she assures him as she pours herself a cup of coffee. "Would you like a cup?"

"Yes, please," he replies. "I thought you were planning on sleeping for a couple of days."

"I was but I forgot to close the black out curtains before I crawled into bed," she tells him as she pours a second cup. "I have the hardest time sleeping if there's any light in the room."

"I hope you got enough rest," he says.

"I slept like a rock," she responds while putting the carafe back in the maker. "I'm thinking of taking that bed home with me. Would you like anything in your coffee?"

"Black is fine, thank you," he answers as she heads towards him. "And you can't take the bed home with you; it won't fit in the trunk."

"Maybe I could rent a truck," she jokingly muses while he slightly moves out from behind the door as he reaches for his drink.

"I'm not helping you commit grand theft bed," he teases as she hands him his cup and then turns an incredible shade of red. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she squeaks as she quickly returns to her own cup across the room, keeping her back to him.

He doesn't understand what has her so flummoxed until he looks down and realizes he's only wearing his boxers.

"Perhaps I should go get dressed," he suggests as he turns around, his own face heating up.

"Sounds good," she replies in that same strangled, high pitched voice.

He returns a few minutes later, properly attired and her coloring has returned to normal. He finds her looking out the window at the incredible view, using her coffee cup to keep her hands warm and he pauses a moment to take in the view as well, but the one of her, not the landscape.

He's mesmerized by the way her still damp hair frames her face; the way the weak sunlight makes her eyes seem to be an even lighter shade of green and how smooth and creamy her skin appears. She takes a sip of her coffee and then a smirk appears on her lips. Belatedly, he realizes he's been caught staring.

"I was going to ask you how you were enjoying the view, but I have a feeling that it's not the Washington Monument that's got your attention," she casually mentions, her cheeks starting to tint to a lovely shade of pink.

"I would have to say the view is very lovely from where I'm standing," he replies and her cheeks get even redder.

"So, um, what should we do now?" she asks nervously, the red starting to spread to the rest of her face.

"I think, perhaps, breakfast is in order," he suggests as he steps up to her and wraps an arm around her waist.

"Breakfast sounds good," she hastily agrees as the heat of his body begins to seep through her turtleneck sweater and jeans and it's starting to affect her thought process.

"Shall we be going then?" he asks after draining his coffee cup.

"Yeah, I'm starved," she answers as she finishes her own drink.

"Then come," he instructs as he takes her empty cup and puts it with his own next to the coffee maker. "The hotel's restaurant is quite good."

"And very expensive," she mutters under her breath.

"That's why I'm treating," he tells her jovially as he puts his hand at the small of her back and guides her out the door.

* * *

A while later, they're seated in the hotel's restaurant near a window overlooking Lafayette Square and she's watching the world go by. He rests his chin on his fist, ignoring the no elbows on the table rule and watches her. She starts blushing a minute later and a shy smile creeps across her lips.

"What are you thinking about?" he softly asks.

"I feel like I'm Cinderella about to go to the ball," she quietly replies, still looking out the window.

"To win the attention of a Prince Charming?" he gently teases.

"I think it's a pretty safe bet that I already have his attention," she answers, turning to face him and reaching out to gently stroke his cheek.

"You most certainly do," he assures her as he captures her hand and kisses the palm. "So, what shall we do with ourselves this morning? I know you have the day spa this afternoon"

_Mate!_ Beast unhelpfully suggests which Hank promptly ignores.

"I was thinking of doing the touristy thing this morning," she tells him. "I hope you don't mind me abandoning you this afternoon."

"Not at all," he assures her. "In fact, I thought it was such a good idea that I've decided to go as well."

"You're going to a day spa?" she asks, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips.

"Is there something wrong with that?" he questions with a raised eyebrow.

"No, nothing at all," she replies, quickly taking a sip of her orange juice to contain the snicker that wants to escape.

"What's so funny about me wanting to be pampered a bit?" he gently challenges. "Is this something only women are allowed?"

"It's not that, it's just that if my father found out that you go to day spas, he'd be questioning your masculinity," she replies, laughter dancing in her eyes. "It's not something _manly_ men do. If someone suggested he go to one of these places, he'd feel the need to go out and chop some wood or something to prove how _manly_ he is."

"Do you question my masculinity?" he inquires, a smile making his own lips twitch.

"Oh, no," she breathes, her eyes starting to darken. "I have no doubt about your masculinity whatsoever."

"Good, otherwise I would be tempted to keep this for myself," he says as he puts his hand in his pocket and brings out a small box cheerfully wrapped in Christmas paper.

She tentatively takes it from him and looks up at him for confirmation. He nods and then she unwraps the small package, not being very careful as the paper tears in a few places. She gently lifts the lid and gasps when she sees her present.

"Hank, it's beautiful," she whispers as she carefully lifts the three dimensional gold heart pendant up by its gold chain.

"I'm glad you like it," he says with obvious pleasure. "Would you do me the honor of wearing it this evening?"

"I'd love too," she hastily replies. "Can I wear it now?"

"Yes, of course," he answers as she undoes the clasp.

He gets up, carefully takes the necklace from her and then steps behind her. She quickly lifts her hair out of the way while he refastens the clasp. She lets her hair fall as he retakes his seat and then gently touches the pendant.

"Thank you," she says just before leaning over and kissing him.

"You're welcome," he replies in a hoarse whisper after the kiss ends.

A smug smile plays across her lips as he quickly brings his libido under control and she continues to play with her present.

"I'm afraid I left your present up in my room," she tells him as the server arrives with their food. "You'll have to wait until after breakfast to get it."

"A life time supply of Twinkies?" he guesses with a grin as he reaches for the salt.

"And how would have I hidden a double trailer semi in my bags?" she laughs.

"You must think I eat a lot of Twinkies if you would have two trailers filled," he pouts but she's not buying the act.

"Or maybe I think you're going to live a really long time," she points out.

"I like that reasoning better," he admits he spears a piece of food onto his fork.

"Besides," she continues as she butters her French toast, "I'd expect you share."

"I can be very territorial over my Twinkies," he playfully growls.

"Even if I asked nicely?" she asks as she gently caresses the back of one of his hands.

"It depends on how nicely you asked," he answers using every ounce of will power not to drag her back up to the rooms.

"Depends on how badly I want a Twinkie," she smirks as she removes her hand from his and picks up her fork.

"You're making yourself quite the bonfire there, young lady," he quietly snarls in jest.

"All the better to stay nice and warm," she replies as she calmly takes a bite.

"So, what would you care to see this morning?" he asks, completely changing the subject in order to save his sanity and dignity. "Site wise, I mean."

"I don't know," she answers after she's swallowed. "Any particular place you recommend?"

"I could show you some of my favorite places if you like," he offers as he starts to eat his own breakfast.

"That would be wonderful, thank you," she says.

"Then we best finish our meals and get going before the last minute shoppers make getting anywhere nearly impossible," he states.

"That sounds like a good idea," she agrees and they finish their meal in companionable silence.

* * *

A while later they return to their rooms to collect their outdoor gear and she goes to get out his present from her bags. A few moments later he's tapping on the door that separates their rooms and she hands him his present as he steps into the room. He examines the brightly wrapped box for a few seconds and then he holds it up to his ear and shakes it.

"Just open it," she orders with a laugh.

He grins and then begins to open it with meticulous care driving her nuts with his slowness. She knows he's just doing it to torment her and it takes every bit of self control not to reach over and 'help' him. Once the paper is gone, he's standing there holding a plain cardboard box with the flaps taped shut in his hands. He carefully breaks the tape with one of his nails and lifts the flaps.

"Just what I always wanted," he jokingly states, "waded up newspaper."

"The president's going to be up for reelection before you finish opening your present," she chuckles.

He takes a handful of crumpled up newsprint and throws it at her. She laughs as she bats it out of the way and he takes a hold of what he finds inside.

"Twinkies," he snickers as she takes the box from him. "Not a life time supply, but it should get me through the weekend."

"Keep going," she encourages and he reaches in again.

"A professional grade hair dryer," he laughs and she grins at his obvious delight.

"There's one more in there," she tells him, relieving him of that box as well.

He sticks his hand in one more time, pushing aside the packing material and his face goes from one of merriment to one of surprise. He carefully explores the object with his fingers before he gingerly lifts the object out. She takes the cardboard box from him while he removes the tissue it's wrapped in and then examines his treasure with the utmost care.

"Amanda," he whispers in awe.

"Well, what do you get a guy who probably has everything?" she asks as she puts the items she's holding down on the bed. "A really old book."

"**The Adventures of Tom Sawyer**," he barely breathes as he gently opens the cover. "It's a second edition but still an excellent find and in very good condition too. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replies. "I'm glad you like it."

He carefully sets the book down on the nightstand behind him before pulling her to him and giving her a kiss that leaves them both breathless.

"I love it," he assures her as she tries to convince her blood to return to her brain.

"Good," she whispers as she holds him close, feeling her pendant pressed between them.

"Perhaps we should get going," he suggests. "We don't have that much time to be tourists."

"Probably a good idea," she agrees as she pulls away and gathers her things.

A short time later they're headed out the front doors of the hotel and making their way through the crowds, barely even noticing the nearly melted snow that fell to the ground the night before.

* * *

Hours later, Hank tries not to fidget or pace as he waits for Amanda to put in an appearance. The lobby of the spa isn't big enough to get a good pacing going anyways, so instead he tries to patiently wait for his beauty. He tries to inconspicuously adjust his tux for about the twentieth time and glances briefly at his watch.

He's about to go and ask the lady behind the counter how much longer it's going to be when a movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. He quickly turns around and sees her walking towards him. Her hair is up in a French twist, her make up is expertly applied, a pair of gold stud earrings adorn her ears but it's when he gets to the base of her neck that he really notices what she's wearing.

"That's cheating," he complains and she grins.

"I told you, you weren't going to see the dress until we got to this little shindig," she reminds him as she walks towards him. "Trust me; it'll be worth the wait."

"Better be," he grumbles as he suspiciously eyes the full length cloak she's wearing that covers her from neck to toe and then offers her his arm. "Shall we go then?"

"Let's," she agrees as she slides a gloved hand through his arm.

He quickly escorts her to his car and gets her properly seated before getting behind the steering wheel.

"It's black," he states as he starts the car.

"What's black?" she asks, playing coy.

"Your dress, you little minx," he playfully growls at her.

"I imagine most of the women at this thing will be wearing black, as will most of the men," she replies, a smile twitching the corner of her mouth.

"You're being a tease," he pouts.

"And you're being impatient," she points out. "We'll be there soon."

He mumbles something under his breath and then concentrates on his driving. A while later they get to the front gates of the White House and have to wait in traffic while every car is checked and the license plate is photographed before being allowed onto the grounds. Once they're past that, the keys to the car are passed over to a valet before they make they're way into the Entrance Hall with it's white marble and crystal chandeliers decorated for the holidays and her breath is practically taken away by the splendor of it.

He guides her over to the coat check area where they wait their turn to be rid of their outer vestments. As soon as they get an attendant to help them, Hank hands over his dress coat and then turns to help her out of her cloak. She finishes taking off her gloves before undoing the clasp at her throat. Once he's sure it's safe to do so, he gently pulls the cloak off of her shoulders and gets his first look at the back of her dress, well, what there is of it at any rate.

"Oh my stars and garters," he gasps.


	45. Holiday Gala

**Author's Notes:** Thank you Takerslady, Snape's Opera Rose, LovelyLadyJem and Mythigal for your reviews. The next chapter will be rated M, so if you don't have this story on alert (lot of good it's doing right now, I know), please make sure you tell the page to sort stories by all ratings.

* * *

"I take it that means you approve," she says as she turns around and he can feel the air leave his lungs in a rush as he sees the front of her dress.

"Sir?" the coat attendant calls, trying to get Hank's attention.

"Perhaps, I'd better take care of this," she suggests with a smug smile as she pulls her cloak out of his nerveless fingers and hands it to the attendant, taking the claim ticket when she does. "Where to now?"

"D-d-d-dining room," he stammers as he continues to stare at the dress.

The plunging V neckline gives more than a hint of her breasts so much so that he's mesmerized and the diamond shaped rhinestone embellishment just below and between her breasts holds his eyes there. The fitted bodice shows off her every curve and the flowing skirt goes down into a small train, making the outfit elegant and sexy at the same time. But the back with its crisscrossed straps and three more of those rhinestone embellishments leaves him panting to find out how hard it would be to get her out of that dress.

When he shows no sign of moving, she gently takes his arm and leads him out of the group of people waiting to check their own outer garments. She follows the crowd across the Entrance Hall to the Cross Hall where they encounter security checking the lady's handbags, checking everyone's IDs and then being herded through metal detectors. Once they're past the check point, they follow the throng to the State Dining Room.

By the time they're met at the entrance of the dinning room by a man with a clipboard, Hank has managed to regain enough of his composure to tell him who they are. The man checks his list and then a young woman in a server's uniform shows them to their seats. Hank holds a seat for Amanda, but she barely even notices as she admires the decorations hung around the immense room.

"I don't care to think how much it cost to decorate this place," she quietly says as she finally sits down.

"Nothing compared to heating it for the winter," he softly replies as he takes the seat to her left and she looks at him a bit funny.

"Any particular reason you're putting yourself in the line of fire?" she asks with a quirked eyebrow.

"I was unaware your elbow was a deadly weapon," he teases while she purses her lips at him and heaven help him but he wants to kiss those lips. "I'd much rather you spent the evening rubbing elbows with me than someone who might misunderstand, especially with that dress."

"I'm glad you remembered," she tells him as she lays one of her hands on top of his and then gives him a sly smile. "I take it you like the dress."

"That dress should come with a warning label," he says as he returns her mischievous look.

"Oh?" she questions with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, it should say, 'Caution: May cause men to run into inanimate objects when worn'," he tells her and she chuckles.

"I didn't see you running into anything," she points out.

"That's because you were on my arm and guiding me," he replies. "I've seen plenty of other men who weren't so lucky. At least two will be dealing with headaches from the pillars they ran into and I don't care to think how many men are going to get an ear full from their wives later this evening."

"But you still haven't told me whether or not you like the dress," she states as she runs her manicured and painted nails over the back of his hand.

"Wait until we get back to the hotel and then I'll show you exactly how much I like that dress," he purrs in her ear as he captures the hand that's tormenting him.

She can feel every hair on her body stand up on end as goose bumps form everywhere and the sensation of her nipples hardening causes a heat to start growing between her legs. He softly chuckles as he gently rubs his nose against her ear and then inhales deeply, taking in her scent. A shiver runs down her spine and it takes everything she has not to jump him right then and there.

"Two can play the teasing game, my dear," he rumbles low in his throat and she gives him a challenging look.

Before either one of them can misbehave any further, more people are shown to the table they're sitting at and soon they're too busy with introductions and getting acquainted with their dining companions to be bad. Though an occasional hand does slip under the table to give gentle caresses to the other's thigh causing the recipient to have to catch the miscreant hand as discretely as possible. By the time the President arrives, they're both a little light headed and they both have some trouble standing as the most powerful man in the country walks into the room.

Fortunately, dinner is served shortly after the President seats himself and then they are too busy trying to eat without elbowing each other to tease. Not that her being too busy with her food is helping him any as he watches her out of the corner of his eye. All that lovely pale skin, bared for all the world to see, just begging to be kissed and nibbled on and he can't touch any of it.

It doesn't help that Beast is whining and panting in the back of his mind, spinning him images of what she might or might not be wearing under that frock. It takes every bit of control he has over his primal self to not growl when she laughs at another man's joke. By the time dinner is over, he's not sure what he ate and most of his blood seems to be pooling in his crotch.

As the last course is cleared away, he closes his eyes briefly and firmly plants an image of Logan in a skort in his mind's eye causing Beast to go into fits. Once he's sure he has control of his libido again, he opens his eyes and finds Amanda looking at him.

"Are you alright?" she quietly asks, leaning towards him and giving him a better view down her dress.

"I'm fine, my dear," he assures her. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you've been fairly quiet all through dinner and you keep watching me," she replies softly. "Rather intensely I might add."

"You're wearing that dress and you're surprised that I'm watching you?" he asks with a raised eyebrow and he can see her cheeks starting to turn red.

She's saved from answering by the President standing and everyone rising as well. After assisting her to stand, Hank offers his arm which she gratefully takes with a smile. A short time later, they're filing out of the State Dining Room down the Cross Hall and into the East Room.

They find that just like the other rooms and the Halls, this huge room is also decorated for the holidays. At the far end is a raised stage with bleachers for a choir on one side and seats with music stands on the other. Row after row of chairs stretch from the stage all the way to the back of the room and people slowly file into the room, taking their seats. Shortly after everyone is seated, the holiday concert begins and with no table to hide their actions, Hank and Amanda must behave themselves.

* * *

About an hour and a half later the concert ends to grateful applause and after the performers leave the stage, people start to leave their seats. Amanda excuses herself to go in search of the bathrooms, which she finds easily enough and attends to her needs. While returning to the East Room she passes a group of women who immediately fall silent upon seeing her and she has no doubt in her mind who the subject of their conversation was.

"Good evening, ladies," Amanda greets as she walks past them while they stare at her.

"Miss Simon," one of the women calls, the most senior of the lot.

"Yes?" Amanda responds, pausing for a moment.

"We were wondering what it is about the Ambassador that attracts you to him," the woman says.

"He likes Twinkies," Amanda replies and with that, she turns and walks off.

She can hear them furiously whispering and she has to smile to herself as she leaves them behind. She returns to the East Room to find that the chairs have been mostly cleared out of the way; some tables have been set up around the edges of the room and for the most part, people are mingling. Finding Hank isn't a problem and she steps up to him just as a server arrives with a tray with snifters of cognac, which they both decline.

He wraps his left arm around her waist and introduces her to the people he's talking to. She remains quiet for the most part, adding to the conversation when she deems it necessary or when asked a question. Not that she can really concentrate on what's going on with his thumb gently rubbing circles on her lower back and slowly driving her crazy. By the time they work their way over to the President, she's about ready to drag Hank off to a nice little closet and have her way with him.

"Hank! Good to see you again," the President greets warmly, shaking Hank's hand vigorously.

"Good to see you too, sir," Hank says with a genuine smile. "Mr. President, may I introduce Miss Amanda Simon."

"Of course, Miss Simon," the President says with the same warmth as he shakes her hand. "Amazing what you did for that Song girl. Everyone was so sure she'd be found guilty."

"It was a clear case of self defense," Amanda points out as the President releases her hand. "It was just a matter of getting a jury that didn't hate mutants more than anything."

"Still, outstanding work, my dear," the President assures her and she feels Hank pull her a little bit closer to him.

"Thank you, sir," she replies as she gratefully leans against Hank.

"So, Hank, I was talking to the prime minister of Australia the other day and he believes they've found a way to deal with out of control mutants," the President states. "I'd really like you to go and have a look. See if it's something that can be adapted here. That is, if you don't mind"

"Of course not, it would be my honor to see what program they have in place," Hank replies.

"Good, you'll leave right after the New Year," the President tells him just as someone taps him on the shoulder for his attention.

The President turns and faces the person behind him and then walks off with him with barely another glance at the couple he had been talking too. He never sees the look of shock on Hank's face or the cold mask on Amanda's. They stand there for several moments in stunned silence as they try to comprehend what's just happened.

"Shall we leave?" he softly asks.

"Yes, please," she quietly answers.

They make their way through the room, stopping occasionally to exchange pleasantries with people Hank knows, but excusing themselves after a few minutes. They go back down the hallway and into the Entrance Hall that's practically empty. They head over to the coat check area and Hank starts searching his pockets, a look of worry coming across his face until she pulls the claim ticket out of her bag, looking rather proud of herself.

"Sneaky little minx," he whispers in her ear and a shiver runs straight down her spine.

"Well, someone had to be coherent and it certainly wasn't you," she smugly tells him.

He softly growls next to her ear and then he snickers as he sees goose bumps forming all over her arms and shoulders.

"Beast," she softly snarls back at him.

"Not yet I'm not," he purrs quietly.

Before she can retaliate, their outer garments are brought out and Hank takes them from the lady. He helps her into her cloak despite Beast's roars of protest and then shrugs his own coat on. He steers her towards the exit with his hand on the small of her back while she finishes putting her gloves back on. The car is quickly retrieved and soon they're on their way back to the hotel in silence.

"Are you alright?" he asks as she stares out the side window.

"How long do these diplomatic trips usually take?" she quietly questions.

"It depends what they're willing to show me and how much of it they're willing to show," he answers. "It could take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks, maybe even a month."

"I nearly went nuts not seeing you for three weeks and you were only a few blocks away," she softly admits. "I don't care to think about how loony I'll be if you're gone a whole month."

"I must admit I wasn't doing much better these past few weeks," he confesses. "I used to look forward to these missions because it was something new, a break from the routine. I must say I'm not looking forward to going on this one especially since Australia is in the middle of its summer right now."

"What's the season got to do with it?" she inquires.

"I'm going to shed like mad," he grumbles.

She nods so he knows she heard him, but falls silent once more. They get to the hotel a short time later and she's still lost in thought as they make their way to the elevators. By the time they get to their floor, he's pretty sure any chance of a romantic liaison has been shot to hell and he heads for his room as soon as she's got her door open.

"Hank?" she calls, stopping him in his tracks. "Aren't you coming in?"

He pauses as he turns to look into those questioning green eyes and it takes everything he has to keep Beast from taking over.

"If I go into your room, I won't be coming out until morning," he warns her while they stand there in the hallway, her door only a few inches open.

"I know," she softly replies.

"I will make love to you," he tells her as he steps closer to her.

"I know," she responds a little shakily and he can see her trembling.

"I will try and make you forget that any other man has ever touched you," he states as he takes that final step to be next to her.

"I know," she repeats and then swallows convulsively. "That's what I want."

He places his hand flat against the door and pushes it all the way open. She quietly turns and leads him inside, the sound of her cloak and dress sliding against the floor the only noise. He softly closes the door behind them and when he turns around he sees her standing near the bed, chewing on her bottom lip.

"If you've changed your mind, I'll understand," he says as he moves closer and sees she's still shaking.

"No, it's just…," she starts, not quite able to meet his eyes.

"What?" he prompts when she doesn't continue after several seconds.

"It's just that, I haven't really been impressed with what I've experienced before," she finishes, finally looking at him. "I don't want to be disappointed again."

"I have no intention of leaving that bed until you are completely and thoroughly sated," he states, his blue eyes staring back at her, daring her to challenge his promise.

"I intend to hold you to that," she tells him as she reaches up and caresses his cheek.

"As long as that's not the only thing you're going to hold to me," he purrs as he pulls her against him and staring eye to eye. "You know, I think this is the first time I've noticed that your shoes bring you to my height."

"I was wondering when you were going to notice that," she snickers. "But then, you did seem to be staring _down_ a lot tonight."

"I wonder why," he playfully growls as one of his hands slips past the opening of her cloak and slides around her waist.

She starts to laugh but is stopped short when his lips land on hers and all coherent thinking stops. She lets out a moan when their tongues touch and he holds her even closer while his other hand cradles the back of her head. It's not until the demand for oxygen forces them apart does he unwillingly relinquish her lips.

His lips start to work across her jaw to her ear and neck and she's pretty sure that her brain has turned to mush. The smell of her arousal has Beast straining to take over and Hank manages to keep it in check, but only just. As he's nibbling on her neck, the hand that was holding her head in place goes in search of the clasp holding her cloak shut.

"Oh God, Hank," she whimpers as he nuzzles her ear.

He lets out a sound that distinctly sounds a lot like a purr in response.

"Hank," she calls again and tries to push away.

He growls a warning this time as he holds her even tighter and she can barely breathe.

"Hank, where are the…um…?" she tries to asks, though thinking is very difficult at this point.

"Where are what?" he demands, not happy about being stopped.

"The, um, birth control…things," she stammers, feeling the blood rushing to her face.

"They're in my room," he answers as he releases her and takes a step back. "Wait here, I'll go get them."

Before she can respond, he turns and heads for the doors joining their rooms. He opens the first door and goes to push the second door open only to be stopped in his tracks. He lets out a frustrated growl that makes her gasp in surprise.

"What's the matter?" she inquires.

"The maid shut the door," he snarls as he takes his room key out of his pocket. "Wait right there."

Before she can huff about being ordered to stay like a dog, he's out the door and opening his own room door. Just as her door is clicking shut, he's back through the conjoining doors with a brown paper bag in his hand.

"I think you just broke the land speed record," she jokes, very surprised by how quickly he moved.

"Imagine how much faster I could have gone with my shoes off," he tells her as he puts the bag on the night stand. "Now, where was I?"

Before she can respond, she's back in his arms and his lips are on hers, making any more thinking impossible.

* * *

Here's a link to the dress I've tried to describe: http://edressme(dot)com/dresses6019(dot)html Here's the cloak: http://www(dot)cloaksofireland(dot)com/West20Cork(dot)htm I think people can figure out how to fix those. 


	46. Touch

**Author's notes 1:** Thank you Takerslady, Mythigal, Snape's Opera Rose, Erisah Mae, maraluch, LovelyLady Jem, theNightEnchantress, dog youkai jane and everyone else who's just catching up with all the alerts that finally went out. We've finally gone adult!

* * *

As the kiss deepens, her gloved hands come up sinking into his thick mane and he makes a disapproving sound in his throat. Before she can pull back and ask what's wrong, one of his hands grabs hers, roughly rips the glove off of her hand and then puts her hand back where it had been. She gives a sigh of pleasure as she touches those soft strands, running them through her fingers while he removes the other glove.

She never thought she could be so turned on by fur, but the need to touch more comes over her and her hands travel down to his neck, causing a shiver to run through his body. The bow tie is quickly undone and removed and soon the buttons of his shirt are giving way to her eager fingers. She parts his shirt and buries her hands in the fur of his chest, causing him to groan as she caresses the hard muscles hidden beneath the soft hairs; just touching him is driving her crazy.

"Sweet Jesus," she sighs when he finally lets her up for air.

"Is everything alright?" he asks after her words manage to penetrate his lust fogged brain.

"Oh God, yes," she breathes as her hands continue to explore his body, marveling at the way his muscles move beneath her hands.

He sheds his coat and jacket while her hands continue their wanderings, slowly driving him mad with need and his pants have become about two sizes too small. Once his outer vestments are gone, he quickly finds the clasp to her cloak and then gets frustrated when he finds that her arms are through the holes, preventing it from completely coming off of her. He gives a small growl as he tugs on the cloak and she removes her hands from his body only long enough to get her arms free.

No sooner is the cloak on the floor than she's pulling his shirt free of his pants. It takes a coordinated effort on both of their parts to get his shirt off since his large hands prevent him from just sliding them past the buttoned cuffs. With shaking hands, they manage to get the cuffs unbuttoned and the cuff links off without too much trouble, though one of the buttons is going to have to be sown back on, if they can ever find it.

Once the shirt is tossed away, her arms around his torso as her fingers find their way through his fur and down to his skin, touching him. He crushes her body to his as his lips find hers and hungrily devours them as if he was a starving man. When the need for air forces him to release her lips, he begins to work on all that lovely skin that's been taunting him for hours, the need to touch it overwhelming.

"Oh God, Hank," she moans as her head lolls to the side to give him easier access to her neck.

His hands are all over that soft skin, caressing it, stroking it, getting lost in the feeling of it. The smell and taste of her are driving him beyond reason and he can feel Beast trying to take over. It's all he can do to remain in control, but there is something they can both agree on, they need to touch more skin and that dress has got to go. He pulls and tugs on the straps, trying not to scratch her with his nails, but growling in frustration when the dress doesn't give way.

"Hank," she whimpers as he continues to suckle on her neck just below the ear. "Careful with the dress."

"Off," he snarls and then nips at her neck.

"The clasps are behind the diamond shaped things on the back," she pants, amazed with herself for being that coherent.

He swiftly finds the hooks, makes short work of them and then gives a huff in disappointment when the thing doesn't immediately fall away. After getting Beast back under control, he gently disengages her arms and then takes a step back himself. He can see that she's furiously blushing, but she doesn't stop him as he reaches out and carefully pushes the straps off of her shoulders.

The dress falls into a black pool at her feet and he can see her arms twitching as if she wants to cover herself up. She's even redder now and she's trembling like a leaf as she looks everywhere but at him. He captures her hands in his and has a really good look at her.

Her breasts aren't huge, but they're perfect as far as he's concerned with their pink nipples hardened by the sudden rush of cooler air against them and he can't wait to taste them. Her flat belly and shapely hips cause even more blood to rush to his groin and the pants he didn't think could get any tighter, do. The little scrap of lace that's pretending to be her panties just teases him and when he lays eyes on the thigh high stockings, he's pretty sure he's losing brain cells into his pants.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, partially glad that her shoes are hidden by the dress that's gathered around her ankles because he knows that if they're half as sexy as the rest of the outfit, he's a goner.

"Thank you," she softly replies as she steps out of the dress and now he knows he's doomed.

"Those shoes are never coming off," he tells her as she steps into his arms.

"Gonna make it awfully hard to shower," she manages to reply before his lips are on hers again.

She moans as his fur rubs against her nipples getting them even harder and God help her, but she wants more. Questing fingers soon find his belt and the buckle is undone post haste despite how badly her hands are shaking. He groans with relief as the fastening and zipper to his pants are quickly opened, but then she stops.

"Don't stop," he begs as he thrusts his hips forward and she can feel the hard bulge still hidden by his clothes. "Touch me."

He feels her quivering hands land on his hips and then a moment later, his pants are being pushed off of them. Gravity takes over as soon as the waistband is past his backside and his hands slide down her back until he has a cheek in each hand. They both moan as he pulls her flush with his body and they passionately kiss as her fingers sink into his mane again. Nothing else matters in the world right now except the feeling of the other's touch.

_TAP! TAP! TAP!_

They both jump and she lets out a startled yelp while he gives a warning growl to the door.

"Who is it?" he barks, not at all happy.

"Room service," calls back a woman's voice through the door.

He makes a displeased sound deep in his throat, gently lets her go, pulls his pants back up and then goes to answer the door. He opens the door just enough to see who's out in the hall and a Asian lady in a hotel uniform is standing there.

"Yes?" he asks.

"Would you like the bed turned down?" she asks.

"No, thank you," he answers a bit tersely.

"Chocolate?" she inquires, taking a couple of pieces of wrapped chocolate from a basket he hadn't even noticed she was carrying.

"Yes, fine, thank you," he replies shortly, opening the door enough to put his hand out.

She lets out a startled gasp at the sight of his blue, furry appendage, quickly drops the chocolate into his open palm and then hurries to the next room. As he's putting the _Do Not Disturb_ sign on the door, the maid knocks on the door to his room and he can hear Amanda shutting the connecting door behind him. He shuts and locks the door, goes and drops the chocolate on the nightstand, turns down the covers the bed himself and then comes up behind her while she listens to the maid moving about his room. They remain silent until they hear the outer door to the other room shut and they both sigh in relief.

"You took your shoes off," he pouts as he steps closer to her.

"Sorry, I know you liked them, but my feet were killing me," she tells him as he puts his hands on the door on either side of her, effectively trapping her there.

"So, your shoes de-_feet_-ed you, hmm?" he teases and she groans.

"You should be punished for that pun," she playfully growls.

"You can try," he purrs as his hands leave the door and then wrap themselves around her bare middle, causing her to moan at his touch. "Now, let's see. Where was I? Ah yes, I was making you forget that you've ever been touched by anyone else."

With that, his hands slide up her torso and cup her breasts causing her to press herself against him and groan loudly. She reaches back and buries her hands in his mane again, the need to touch him overwhelming as he nibbles and kisses her neck and shoulder. He gently squeezes her breast, rubbing the nipples into hard peaks until he has her panting and whimpering with need.

Once he's sure he has her in frenzy, he carefully slides one of his legs between hers until she's practically sitting on his thigh and then he slips one of his hands down her belly until his fingers are between her legs. The instant he touches her clit, she lets out a cry of surprise as she arches her back forcing her breast further into the hand that's still on her chest. He starts rubbing that little bundle of nerves and soon she's bucking into his hand as best she can while her cries hit a fevered pitch. In a mater of moments, her body goes stiff as she nearly screams her completion and then she goes completely limp in his arms.

He smiles to himself as he gently lifts her into his arms and then goes to lay her on the bed. He carefully sets her down and then goes to strip himself down to his boxer shorts, ignoring the tent pole currently residing in his shorts. He climbs into bed next to her and finds that she hasn't moved other than to watch him with half lidded eyes.

He smiles at her as he gently caresses her face and then softly kisses her while one of her arms circles his neck. He pulls her closer and deepens the kiss making her moan as her body begins to respond to him again. He hand slowly travels from her face, down across her torso, over her hip and to the top of her thigh.

His lips start to follow his hand only be distracted by a lovely mound of flesh on her chest and he has to taste that little pink bud. She whimpers as her hand grabs the back of his head and she arches into his mouth. He sucks and licks the nipple until he has her panting and then he continues his journey down her body.

She whimpers in protest, but doesn't have the strength to stop him while he licks, nips and kisses his way to the top of her stockings. He carefully rolls the silky item down her leg, following it with kisses, trying to ignore the smell of her arousal and how crazy it's making him and Beast. As soon as the first stocking is gone, the second one is quickly removed and he starts to work his way up the previously ignored leg.

Part way up that lovely long appendage, he has to start holding onto it since she's writhing around on the bed and she's begging him for she doesn't know what, but she knows she needs it. By the time he reaches her second hip, she's completely incoherent and he looks up at her face to see the hair that some poor hairdresser worked who knows how long on is completely ruined. He sees her staring back at him with lust hazed eyes, her chest is heaving and her hands are reaching for him, trying to touch him while he holds onto her hips to keep her still.

"I'm sorry," he says and before she can quite wrap her brain around what he's just said, he destroys her panties and tosses them out of the way.

She gasps in surprise while his lips go back to kissing her soft skin and he gently pushes her legs apart. The smell of her arousal is heady and overwhelming, making him dizzy for just a moment and he can feel Beast starting to take hold. Hank fights for dominance and barely wins, but he knows Beast hasn't given up the fight.

He kisses and licks his way from her hip up her belly where he briefly probes her belly button with his tongue and she makes a sound between a groan and a whimper. She moans softly as his hand slides up her torso and starts to stroke her front, playing with her one of her nipples until it's a little pink pebble again. Despite the long day she's had, the late hour or the orgasm she's already experienced, she can feel herself slipping down that slope that can only lead to one place and she gladly rides it. Her hands start wandering over his body and she quickly comes in contact with his boxers.

"Off," she orders, tugging at the silky material.

"As my lady commands," he replies just before removing the garment in record breaking time.

As soon as he lies back down, her hands are touching him, caressing him, feeling the way his muscles move beneath his fur. He gathers her up into his arms, trapping his hardness between them and kisses her passionately, his own hands doing their own exploring. Soon, coherent thought is no longer possible for either one of them and they can only communicate by touch and the animal like sounds they're making.

Once the need of air forces their lips apart, he starts to work his way over to her ear and neck, causing her to make little mewling sounds. When he's satisfied his need to nibble on her ear and suckle her neck, he makes his way down past her collar bone and follows her sternum until he's between her breasts. She's trembling in his arms while Beast tries to speed things along, but Hank refuses to be rushed by his primal self or by the panting woman in his arms.

He licks and kisses his way around one of those small pillows, enjoying the salty taste, never quite touching the areola, but coming very close several times. When she starts whimpering, he finally licks the little pink bud and then blows on it causing her to gasp. He quickly sucks the nipple into his mouth and she cries out, instinctively wrapping her arms around his head and throwing a leg over his torso.

He suckles and laves the little bud with his tongue, sending her into a frenzy of lust, the smell of her arousal driving him mad. He gives one last lick to that nipple and then kisses his way over to the other one. He rolls her onto her back as he does with him on top and her legs wrap around his middle as she holds onto him as if her life depends upon it.

He can't think straight, all he knows is that the need to mate with the willing female beneath him is overwhelming. She's filling his senses and he can't fight it any more. He roughly releases her nipple, inciting a startled, pain filled yelp from her and then moves up her body to claim her lips in a rough kiss.

The tip of his erection pushes against her lower lips and she goes stiff. He growls a warning, but she starts to struggle and fight against him anyways. She manages to get one of her legs underneath him, pushing him just enough off target that he slams into upper thigh when he tries to thrust into her.

"Wait," she pants as she tries to squirm out from underneath him.

"No," he snarls while trying to get her back into position.

"Hank, the birth control isn't going to do any good sitting on the nightstand," she snaps and he freezes.

Her words sink into the rational part of his brain after a few moments and he suddenly realizes that Beast almost got control of him. With a cry of anguish, he's off of her and out of the bed in a heartbeat while she lies there trying to figure out what just happened. She sits up and looks over at him in confusion and sees him standing unsteadily a few feet away.

"Hank?" she softly calls, a bit perplexed by his behavior.

"I'm sorry," he whispers and starts to head for the conjoining doors. "I shouldn't be here."

"What? Wait!" she cries as she scrambles out of the bed after him managing to reach him just as he's trying to shut his door. "Ouch!"

"Amanda, please go back to bed," he requests miserably as he tries to gently push her back into her own room and Beast rages inside his head.

"Only after you tell me what the Hell is going on," she states as she grabs a fist full of fur and glares at him.

"That hurts," he tells her, staring at her grasping hand.

"Good," she snarls. "You care to explain to me why you tell me you're going to make me forget every man I've ever slept with, get me so horny I'm about ready to explode and then just take off like that?"

"I…I…can't," he replies while he tries to dislodge her fingers without hurting her.

"Wrong answer!" she snaps, tightening her grip. "Now, what the Hell is going on?"

"You wouldn't understand," he retorts unhappily.

"How can you be so sure of that?" she demands, furious. "Is it because I'm a woman? Or do you think I'm too stupid?"

"No, it's not that," he hastily answers.

"Then what is it!?" she asks as a tear smears her already ruined makeup.

"I nearly raped you!" he almost shouts.

"What are you talking about?" she questions, her brow furrows with a frown.

"I nearly had sex with you without using protection," he reminds her heatedly. "I was about to force myself upon you."

"Hank, you just got carried away," she assures him as her grip loosens. "You did stop and that's what's important, not what you almost did. Please come back to bed with me."

"It's not just that," he says sadly, his shoulders slumped, his head down. "It's…"

"It's what?" she asks gently, rubbing the area that she had previously been holding onto.

"I'm not a man," he quietly admits and she looks his naked form up and down.

"Could have fooled me," she snorts with a half smile.

"You don't understand," he sighs as he pushes her hand away and then goes to sit on his bed. "My code name is Beast and it's well earned. There's a primal part of me that when it comes out, I'm no longer a rational, thinking person, but little more than an animal."

"We all have a dark side that we try to hide," she replies.

"It's not like that," he states shaking his head, still refusing to meet her eyes.

"Then what is it?" she asks. "Please explain it to me so I can understand."

"The primal part of me is more than a dark side that I'm trying to hide," he tries to explain. "It's like a separate personality that's trying to take over. It wants control and I can't let it."

"So, you're hearing voices in your head?" she inquires more than a bit confused.

"Voice," he clarifies. "Until recently, I didn't even realize it could talk."

"When did it start talking to you?" she questions as she sits down beside him.

"After our first date," he answers, staring at the large hands in his lap. "It called you 'mate'."

"At least some part of you wants me," she says softly while she wraps her arms around herself. "Why can't the rest of you?"

"It's not that easy," he replies. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Hate to break it to you, but that's exactly what you're doing to me," she states and he can practically feel the emotional barriers going up.

"You're a beautiful woman," he tells her. "You deserve better than this."

"And of course that's all I have to offer," she coldly states as she abruptly stands up. "It's not like I have a brain or anything like that. I better go out there and snag myself a husband because, God knows, once my looks are gone, there's no chance in Hell a man will want me."

"That's not what I meant," he tries to start.

"Isn't it?" she demands, turning on him and he looks up into those cold, hard eyes that he knows only can be seen when she's truly upset. "So, what happens now? Will you see me to the train station like you said you would? Or do I wake up in the morning and find that you've snuck off during the night? What happens when I get back to New York? Will you even call me?"

"Amanda, I…," he tries to start, but just can't find the right words.

"I will tell you this, Ambassador," she says, her voice taking on a cold, hard edge. "You've made what Keith did to me seem like child's play."

"Amanda…," he says, reaching for her and she jerks back as if it were a poisonous snake.

"Goodbye, Ambassador," she snarls before turning on her heel and marching back to her room, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

**Author's notes 2:** There's a longer version of this chapter on the adult fan fiction site. Check my author's page for the link. Remember, you must be 18 to view that site. 


	47. Apologies

**Author's Notes**: Thank you theNightEnchantress, Mythigal, maraluch, LovelyLadyJem, Takerslady, Erisah Mae and unkown. You can put away the voodoo dolls now, here's the next chapter.

* * *

He drops his face into his large hands and quietly cries while Beast screams at him from inside his head. He just ignores his primal self, figuring it'll lose interest and settle down after a bit. By the time the tears have stopped, Beast has done anything but calm down and if truth be told, it seems to be fighting even harder for control.

_**MATE! **_Beast shrieks.

"It's better this way," Hank tells it sadly, feeling as if his heart has been ripped from his chest.

_**NO! MATE MINE!**_ Beast screams. _**MINE! MINE! MINE!**_

"For how long?" Hank demands of it. "Until something new comes along? Until we get her pregnant?"

_Life_, Beast hisses.

"What?" Hank asks, confused by the new word Beast has learned.

_Life mate_, Beast states, calmer but by no means ready to give up the fight. _My life mate_. _Mine_.

"I doubt she'll want anything to do with us now," Hank sighs as he gets up off of the bed and goes to get a fresh pair of boxers and sleeping pants from his bag.

_Mine_, Beast growls. _Want now_.

"Well, I might as well face her now," Hank states as he heads for the closed door. "My tux is still in her room."

He gently taps on the door with just a finger nail and Beast scoffs at the wimpy attempt at knocking. He tries again with a knuckle and a bit harder but Beast is still unimpressed. Rolling his eyes at himself, he forms a fist and gives the door a good solid knock.

The door clicks open and Hank stares at it in surprise. When it doesn't open any more than the couple of inches it's already ajar, he gently pushes it open and sticks his head in her room, half expecting the door to be slammed in his face. He looks around but the room appears to be empty.

"Amanda?" he softly calls, but there is no answer.

He cautiously steps into the room, noting that nothing seems to be any different when he left it a few minutes ago and sees that the door leading out is still locked, he gives a small sigh of relief that she hasn't run off. Then he notices the bathroom door is shut and he can see light shining out from under it. As he steps closer, he can hear the shower running and turns away from the door to collect his things.

_Mate now!_ Beast demands.

"I'm not about to go bursting in on her while she's taking a shower," Hank tells it irritably and images of her wet and naked flash through his mind. "Stop that."

He starts to collect his things when the sound of something large falling in the tub stops him in his tracks. Without thinking, he drops what's in his hands and he's through the bathroom door in the blink of an eye. He roughly yanks the shower curtain to the side, ripping it in the process and finds Amanda curled up in a ball it the tub, crying and shivering. He can understand the crying, but the shivering has got him worried and he reaches over to turn off the water.

_Cold_, Beast states and Hank pauses.

Hank belatedly realizes that his primal self is right, the water is freezing cold. In his haste to get to her, he hadn't noticed the lack of steam coming from the shower. He looks down at her again and sees that her lips are starting to turn blue.

He quickly turns up the heat and then goes to shut the door while Beast whimpers with worry in the back of his mind. By the time he returns, steam is starting to rise from the shower and he kneels down next to the tub, adjusting the temperature so as not to scald her. He can hear her teeth chattering now as she takes great gasping sobs and her shaking has become rather violent.

Knowing that the shaking is just the body's way of getting warm again, he grabs a folded up towel off of the sink and puts it under her head to try and make her a little more comfortable. As he's laying her head down on the makeshift pillow, he notices that she hasn't taken her hair down and he begins to meticulously remove the bobby pins that are holding the strands in place, not caring how wet he's getting. As he's removing the last few pins, she weakly tries to wave him off and he ignores her attempts to stop him.

Once all the pins are out, he tosses them into the sink and then grabs the bottle of shampoo. He's not sure why, but he feels the need to wash her hair despite her feeble attempts to halt his actions. Once he's sure she's fully lathered, he makes her sit up so that he can rinse the shampoo out. She doesn't fight him, but sits there listlessly and while the shower makes it impossible to see the tears, he knows they're still coming.

"I'm sorry," he says as he gets the last of the lather rinsed out. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Could have fooled me," she grumbles as she tries to pull away from him.

"Listen, I know I've hurt you…," he starts.

"So has every man who's ever expressed an interest in me," she mutters miserably as she pulls her knees to her chest. "Why should you be any different?"

"One would think that I'm smarter than they are," he replies and she snorts in response. "I'm afraid I can't argue with your assessment."

"What do you want?" she demands, in no mood for much of anything any more.

"Right now, I want to get you out of this shower, dried off, dressed and put to bed," he tells her and she glares at him from the corner of her eye. "I swear my intentions are completely honorable."

"Get out," she orders and his stomach drops.

"We need to talk," he points out.

"I don't see what you could possibly say to me," she snarls. "You made yourself quite clear earlier."

"Amanda, please, let's talk," he begs and she sighs.

"Fine," she grumbles. "Now get out so I can get dried off."

"As my lady commands," he quietly replies as he gets to his feet.

"I am _not_ your lady," she growls and he can hear the pain in her voice.

"I'll be waiting for you when you come out," he tells her, grabs a towel to dry off his arms and then leaves, quietly shutting the door behind him.

He leans against the door, closes his eyes and sadly sighs. He can feel Beast waiting expectantly and he knows that unless he can fix things, life is going to be pretty miserable with the primal half of him. With a resigned sigh, he pushes himself off of the door and goes to pick up his clothes.

* * *

By the time she comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing more than the hotel's bathrobe and her hair wrapped up in a towel, all of the clothes have been picked up and put away, including hers and he's patiently sitting on the edge of the bed. He stands as she steps into the room, but she doesn't quite look at him. He can tell she's been crying even more since he left her and he feels even worse than before which he didn't think was possible.

"Amanda, I'm sorry," he starts as he steps closer to her.

"You said that already," she interrupts as she heads for the closet.

"I know," he replies, watching as she opens the closet door and pulls a bag out. "I was hoping you'd believe it this time."

"Why should I?" she shoots back as she roots around in the bag, obviously looking for something.

"Because I really mean it," he answers while she tosses the bag back into the closet and pulls out another one.

"When were you planning on telling me about this split personality thing?" she demands as she goes through the second bag. "Our wedding night?"

_Life mate?_ Beast purrs, perking right up at the idea.

_Not at this rate there won't be, now hush_, Hank thinks back to it.

"You plan on answering me?" she questions heatedly as she throws the bag back in the closet.

"I don't know," he finally answers while she drags yet a third bag out of the closet. "It's not something that can just be brought up at the drop of a hat in the middle of dinner."

"So of course last night, when I was spilling my guts about my lack of love life wouldn't have been a good time at all," she replies sarcastically while she begins to dig through the latest piece of luggage.

"You're right, I should have told you last night," he admits as he moves a little closer to her. "I thought I could keep it in under control. I was wrong and I am sorry. What are you looking for?"

"My hair brush," she answers, irritated that she can't find said item. "I had it this morning, but now it's gone."

"It's over on the desk," he tells her. "I saw it when I was looking for my tie."

"Right, I was admiring the view while I brushed out my hair this morning," she remembers as she returns her bag to the closet. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he replies as she walks past him. "Amanda, please, I really am sorry."

"All I've ever wanted in a guy was for him to be nice and gentle and to treat me with kindness and respect," she tells him quietly as she picks up her brush, her back to him. "Is that too much to ask for?"

"No, it's not," he softly answers as he steps up behind her.

"Every guy I've dated has found a way to hurt me," she whispers. "Was I hoping for too much when I thought you'd be different?"

"No, you weren't," he replies and he hears her draw a ragged breath. "Please forgive me."

"How can I be sure you won't hurt me again?" she asks in a hushed voice.

"You can't," he responds, sounding miserable. "All I can do is tell you that I don't ever want to be the cause of your tears again and I swear I will do everything within my power to make it right again."

He hears her take another choked breath and then she slowly leans back against him. It feels like his heart is finally beating again and his arms carefully come up and hold her. When it seems like her legs no longer want to hold her up, he gently scoops her into his arms and carries her over to the bed.

With his superior strength and agility, he's easily able to climb onto the middle of the bed and settle down with her cradled in his lap. His own silent tears fall as she buries her face into his chest and has another good long cry. By the time her tears dry out, she's completely exhausted and just sits in Hank's lap, unable to muster the strength to move or talk.

He quietly takes the brush from her limp fingers, pulls the towel off of her head and then starts to gently brush out her still damp hair. She sighs and relaxes into him, making Beast purr happily while Hank continues to take care of her. Even after all of the tangles and knots have been removed, he continues to brush her hair, just happy to have her back in his arms. Eventually, she reaches up and takes the brush from him, tossing it towards the bathroom when she does.

"I was beginning to think you had fallen asleep," he quietly says while he wraps his arm around her.

"Nearly," she replies as she starts to gently stroke the fur on his arm. "Tell me about Beast."

"It wasn't until after I took the serum I told you about, that Beast developed," he answers after several moments. "It took me a while to realize what was going on. When I got into fights, I would go into these frenzies that would take some time for me to regain control of myself. At first I thought it was just adrenaline and that my new mutation was causing my body to produce an overabundance of it. But after a while, it became obvious to me that there was something more going on. I went to the Professor and asked for his help. He confirmed that the primal part of my brain had become more than the basic instinct for fight or flight, but was actually developing a type of basic personality. Until recently, all it really wanted was to fight and it gets very agitated when I don't give into its demands. I've always managed to keep it under control unless I was in an actual fight."

"But that's changed," she puts in when he pauses for a few seconds.

"After our first date, it started to talk to me," he admits with a sigh. "Nothing complex, mind you. It said just one word at first. Mate. I had no doubt that it was referring to you. Since then its vocabulary has grown to nearly a dozen words, most of them it started using this evening. I'm actually rather impressed with that."

"Why should that surprise you?" she asks as she shifts around a little to get a bit more comfortable. "He's a part of you. Why shouldn't he be smart?"

_Mate_, Beast purrs eagerly and Hank sighs.

"Careful, my dear, it's getting amorous again," he warns.

"Us talking about him is getting him horny?" she questions, looking up at him.

"No, you wiggling around on my lap wearing nothing more than a bathrobe is," he tells her and tries not to look down for fear of getting Beast even more worked up.

"What about you?" she softly asks. "Do you still want me?"

"Oh my stars and garters yes, I want you," he moans as he holds her closer. "But the hour is quite late, we're both tired and I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to keep my word about making you forget that any one else has ever touched you. We should get some sleep, if for no other reason than so we can function properly tomorrow."

"Are you still planning on driving up to Vermont?" she inquires.

"That is my current plan," he tells her. "There's a quaint little cabin that I've rented and I figure a week of just reading and relaxing will do me world of good."

"I wish I could join you," she sighs and Beast gets excited by that idea.

"You'd miss Christmas with your family," he points out and Beast hisses at him.

"A week of being badgered by my mother about finding a man and settling down while my sister holds the Sword of Damocles over my head or spend a week with you on in a quiet little cabin in the middle of nowhere," she muses. "Not a really hard choice if you ask me."

"When you put it that way, I can see your point," he chuckles as he reluctantly lifts her out of his lap.

"Hank?" she hesitantly calls as he slides off of the bed.

"Yes, my dear?" he responds, turning to help her off of the bed.

"Would you…," she starts, her cheeks starting to turn pink.

"Would I what?" he prompts as he reaches over and helps her off of the bed.

"Would you sleep with me tonight?" she mumbles, her face turning a bright red.

"I thought I just pointed out that we need our rest," he reminds her.

"That's what I mean," she hastily replies. "Would you sleep in here with me tonight?"

"And that's all we'd do? Sleep?" he questions.

"Well, until we're rested," she tells him, the blush creeping down her neck now.

"I must warn you, my dear," he purrs as he pulls her into his arms and nuzzles her hair. "If I sleep in here with you and I wake up with you in my arms, I may not be so inclined to let you continue sleeping."

"And what exactly would you be inclined to do to wake me up?" she asks as her arms snake their way around his neck.

"I will make love to you," he replies as he kisses her neck.

"In that case, you'd better make sure that little brown bag of yours is within reach this time," she warns just before she gently bites his ear.

"Than again, sleeping may not come to us for a while," he moans as he holds her close and she can feel a certain part of his body is very awake.

"Then you'll sleep in here tonight?" she inquires softly.

"Just try and keep me out," he replies, his voice a seductive purr.

"Speaking of keeping out, how did you get in here?" she asks suddenly, leaning back enough to look at his face. "I know I shut that door."

"I knocked and it popped open," he answers.

"But I'm sure I closed it," she states, a perplexed look on her face.

The scientific part of his brain is now curious, so he releases her and then turns his attention to the door in question. He shuts the door as far as it will go, but notices he doesn't hear the latch click into place. With a frown wrinkling his brow, he pulls the door open and examines it, examines the latch and then carefully checks the door jamb.

"Ah ha, here's the little culprit," he chuckles as he stoops over to pick something up and then turns to face her, showing her his prize. "The missing button from my shirt."

"This is what kept the door from latching shut?" she asks as she takes the small item from him.

He shuts the door and the latch is clearly heard clicking into place.

"I'd have to say yes," he answers as he takes the button back. "Now, I'm going to put this in a safe place and then I'm going to get ready for bed."

"So, I'll meet you back here in a little bit?" she nervously questions.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away," he tells her as he cups her face in his hand and gently kisses her.

Before she can even catch her breath, he's back in his room and she stands there for a moment complete impressed by the man's speed. After collecting a few of her own things, she returns to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When she comes back into the bedroom, she finds the bed already occupied by a very welcoming presence.

He throws back the covers to welcome her into his embrace and she gladly climbs under the blankets with him. After a few quiet kisses, she rolls over and snuggles up against him. After turning off the light on the nightstand, he gladly cuddles up to her, spooning her from behind. She adjusts herself just a bit and a strange crinkling sound catches her attention.

"What was that?" she asks into the darkness.

"I believe my lady requested that a certain brown bag be kept close at hand this time," he softy purrs near her ear. "If you like, I can move it."

"Where is it?" she questions as the warmth of his body starts to lull her to sleep.

"Between the headboard and the pillows," he answers as he slips a hand under her pajama top to rest it on the soft skin of her belly. "Shall I move it?"

"No," she replies with a yawn. "It's fine where it is."

He listens to her breathing as it becomes slow and regular and then turns his attention inwards. Beast is making contented sounds in the back of his mind and he takes it as a good sign. With a happy sigh, he buries his nose in her hair and closes his eyes, soon drifting off to sleep with his soon to be mate in his arms.


	48. Early Morning Exercises

**Author's Notes:** Thank you Erisah Mae, theNightEnchantress, Maraluch, AngerManagementIssues45, Mythigal, Takerslady, LovelyLadyJem, dog youkai jane and SparrowsVixon for your reviews. I recently got a review for chapter 3 by someone called dogo. Does anyone agree with this person?

* * *

She wakes to the feeling of being warm and safe and loved and being poked by something hard in the small of her back. With her sleep fogged brain only registering that something is making her uncomfortable, she reaches back to push it away and ends up with a hand full of cloth covered erection. He immediately groans as he thrusts himself into her hand and pulls her closer to him.

"Oops," she mumbles, realizing that he's trapped her hand between them.

"Oops?" he questions in a voice that's between a purr and a growl.

"I think I've just woken up the Beast," she teases as she manages to get her hand free.

"Oh, the Beast has been awake for a while now and has been waiting for you to join him," he purrs as his hand slides up her top and his fingers gently caresses the underside of one of her breasts.

She lets out a whimper just before taking a deep breath, releasing a huge yawn and giving in to the need to have a good full body stretch. He loosens his hold on her long enough for her to finish and then he's upon her once more. She finds herself on her back with his lips nibbling on her neck, one of his hands under her shirt holding her just below a breast and him grinding himself into her hip.

"Hank," she moans as she reaches through the dark to touch him.

"Amy," he groans as he nips her neck. "Stop me now or I'm taking this all the way."

"Not to sound like a slut," she pants, "but take me."

Before she knows it, her top is gone and his hands and lips are quickly driving her insane. He suckles on her neck while his hand cups her breast and his thumb rubs the nipple until it's a hard pebble. She grabs a hold of him wherever she can, sinking her fingers into his fur and holding onto him as if her life depends on it.

Within moments he has her gasping and moaning his name as he leaves a trail of hot wet kisses down her neck, over her collar bone and down to her breasts. She cries out and arches her back as he sucks her previously ignored nipple into his mouth, quickly driving her to the edge while his tongue does incredible things to that little bud. It doesn't take him long to have her completely incoherent and writhing beneath him and he's feeling very proud of himself.

"Hank, please," she begs as she wraps a leg around his torso.

Suddenly he pulls away from her and she cries out in alarm, trying to reach for him, but barely able to see him. Then she feels his fingers grabbing hold of the waist band on her pajama bottoms and before she can say anything, he rips them and her panties off of her in one swift move, partially lifting her off of the bed in the process. She can hear him moving around and the bed slightly shakes with his movements, but she has no idea what he's doing.

"Hank?" she calls as she sits up and reaches for him, gasping when he easily catches her questing fingers.

"Patience, my lady," he purrs just before planting a kiss on those captured digits. "Just taking care of business before I take care of you."

He releases her hand and a moment later she can hear the sound of a paper bag being opened. There are various strange sounds that have her a bit confused including the sounds of things being torn open. She wraps her arms around herself and continues to listen to the unusual noises and nearly jumps out of her skin when one of his hands suddenly touches her knee.

"Are you alright?" he asks as he moves next to her, sliding his hand along her body as he does so.

"Yeah, just a little cold," she assures him while he gently pushes her back down.

"Then, I guess I better get you warmed up again," he purrs seductively.

Before she can respond his mouth is on her, kissing, licking, and nibbling on various parts of her body so that's she soon panting and moaning again. She buries her fingers in that wonderfully soft fur again, barely even noticing when he pushes her legs apart. He climbs between her legs, settling his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her beneath him.

When the top of his erection presses against her lower lips she gasps and he pauses, almost too far gone to stop what's about to happen. They both lie there trembling, anxious to let nature takes its course and at the same time scared out of their wits. Then her legs circle his hips and he gladly takes her up on her invitation. He slides into that tight heat and they both let out a groan of pleasure, but hers is also tinged with pain.

"Are you alright?" he questions with a shaky voice.

"It's been nine years," she nearly whimpers, "and you're not exactly tiny."

"As much as that just bolstered by ego, I don't want to hurt you," he says softly as he adjusts his weight on his arms.

"Just give me a minute," she whispers while she wraps her arms around him, drawing him closer. "Kiss me."

"As my lady wishes," he purrs just before his lips capture hers.

His lips are warm and soft and she quickly loses herself to them as they work their magic on her. She moans as his tongue invades her mouth and one of her hands comes up to caresses his face. He makes a noise between a whimper and a groan as he gently pushes his hips forward and she breaks off the kiss.

"Be gentle," she softly requests as she pulls him closer.

"As my lady commands," he whispers as he slowly pulls out and then just as gently pushes back in.

"Oh God, Hank," she moans as he starts to set a slow rhythm.

The slow pace is driving Beast mad, it rages inside Hank's head, trying to take control until Hank reminds it that they're making Mate happy. Slightly placated, Beast backs off as Hank tries to concentrate on not ending this too soon, but it's not easy. It's been so long since he's been with a woman and the fact that she's so tight and hot and the little mewling noises she's making just isn't helping.

"Faster," she softly begs and he gladly complies.

He can feel Beast easing up next to him, not taking control, but helping as he sets his lips to nibbling on her, driving her closer to the edge. Her mewls have turned to cries of passion and she clings to him for dear life, trying desperately not to grab fists full of hair while he pounds into her. He can feel the familiar tingling sensation working its way from the base of his spine to his sac and he knows he won't be able to hold off much longer.

Suddenly, her body freezes as the walls of her vagina clamp down on him and she yells her release to the room, convulsively grabbing his fur. He slams into her a few more times before he roars his own release into a pillow and then bites down hard on her shoulder. She screams as a secondary orgasm hits her like a freight train and he briefly purrs in pleasure.

She whimpers in pain and he quickly realizes what he's done. He swiftly releases her and slides off of her and the bed, not caring about the strands of hair she accidentally rips out and causing her to whimper for his sudden retreat. He turns on the light and she covers her eyes as she lets out a startled cry.

"A little warning next time," she complains as she blinks furiously.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he grabs her and pulls her closer to the light.

"Ouch!" she cries out as he prods her shoulder. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind for post-sex activities."

"Amanda, I'm sorry," he says, his voice full of pain and regret while Beast proudly admires the mark on their mate. "I didn't mean to bite you and I certainly didn't mean to bite you so hard."

"Is it bad?" she asks as she reaches out and strokes the fur on his chest.

"It doesn't look like I've broken the skin, but we should put some ice on it," he tells her as he heads for the bathroom. "Let me get cleaned up and dressed and I'll go get some ice."

He disappears through the bathroom door as she tentatively touches her shoulder and feels the indentations his teeth left on her skin. He turns on the light and then carefully removes the condom that he's still wearing. He goes to throw it in the garbage when something shiny catches his attention.

When he comes out of the bathroom, she's standing in front of the mirror over the desk trying to see the damage his teeth have done. She turns to look at him and sees the look on his face, filled with hurt and some anger. Then she sees what's in his hand and her face goes from horror to shame in seconds.

"Hank, I'm sorry," she whispers, dropping her head so she doesn't have to see the pain in his eyes.

"In the garbage, Amanda, I found it in the garbage," he tells her, the hurt very evident in his voice.

"I was angry," she explains quietly, her shoulders drooping with the weight of her guilt. "I'm sorry."

"Did I really hurt you that badly?" he softly asks as he looks down at the gold heart in his hand.

All she can do is nod and take a deep, ragged breath, trying to fight off the tears and failing. He takes those last few steps to reach her and gently pulls her into his arms. She quietly buries her face into his shoulder and cries while he brushes her hair to the side and kisses the shoulder he bit.

"I'm sorry that I upset you that badly," he quietly tells her a short time later as he presses the necklace into her hand. "But the next time you're angry with me, take it out on me, not the jewelry. Ok?"

"Ok," she agrees with a sniff while her fingers curl around the small treasure.

"I need to get some ice," he reminds her as he steps back. "Get back in bed and stay warm. I'll back in a little bit."

She nods that she understands and he watches as she climbs back into bed, curling her body around the hand still clutching the pendant. He covers her up with the blankets, gently plans a kiss on her temple and then goes to get dressed. Once he's covered, he grabs the ice bucket, blocks the door open and then goes in search of the ice machine.

By the time he returns, she's nearly asleep again and he quickly gets a bag of ice ready for her. He swiftly strips, climbs back in bed with her, cuddling up behind her and then carefully putting the ice on her shoulder. She makes a small noise to protest the sudden cold and he makes soothing sounds as he holds her closer. With a sigh, she relaxes into him, gladly absorbing his heat as she drifts off to sleep.

* * *

She wakes to the sound of growling and she groans as she buries her face in warm, soft fur. She makes a happy humming sound as she breathes in his musky scent and tries to snuggle up even closer to him. She tries to pull the covers over her head when the growling sound returns and it's followed by the sound of him chuckling right under her ear.

"That's your stomach that's growling, not mine," he tells her as he holds her close.

"Prove it in a court of law," she grumbles and he laughs out loud making her head bounce. "Stop that."

"Sorry," he snickers as he kisses the crown of her head. "We should probably get up."

That gets her growling as her arm wraps around his middle and one of her legs tries to trap one of his. A certain part of his body rouses enough to start taking interest in the naked woman beside him and Hank quickly squishes those thoughts. He does smile at the absolute futility of pinning him down and he nuzzles her hair as he tries to think of a way to get her out of bed.

"Come, love, it's time to get up," he tells her.

"You first," she challenges as the hand that was across his stomach moves south and gives a quick, gentle stroke to his already waking manhood causing him to gasp.

"That's playing dirty," he nearly growls.

"All's fair in love and war," she counters with a devious snicker.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be is it?" he playfully snarls.

The next thing she knows is that she's pinned on her back and he's kissing and touching all of the right places. He's careful not to hurt her, but he's working her into a frenzy in record time and she's not sure her heart can take it. She tries to wiggle, squirm, push and pull him where she wants him, but it's no use. It's like wrestling with a mountain, a big, blue, furry mountain, but a mountain none the less.

"Hank," she nearly whines while he suckles at her breast and he chuckles.

"If it is a war my lady wants, then a war my lady shall have," he teases just before he blows on the wet nipple.

"A bit one sided," she whimpers as she tries to get him to move again.

"I'm just waiting for your unconditional surrender," he purrs in her ear.

"Then take me, I'm yours," she whispers and he goes perfectly still.

"Do you mean that?" he softly asks. "Are you mine?"

"Yes," she breathes.

He kisses her passionately as her hands sink into his wild mane, making her moan while he reaches into the bag at the head of the bed. He pulls her hand away from his head and presses something into her palm. She looks at it when he lets her up for air and sees an object that she's not too familiar with, but she's got a pretty good idea what it is.

"Um, I don't think I'm supposed to wear this," she says as she looks at the small object.

"You're not," he replies, his voice a sexy rumble as he nuzzles her ear. "This is part of the surrender agreement. Put it on me."

"I suppose me telling you that I've never done that before won't dissuade you," she points out.

"No," he chuckles deep in his throat. "Open it."

With shaking fingers, she manages to get the little foil packet open and she's left with the small circle of latex in her hand. He positions himself where she can reach him and she tentatively reaches for him as her face starts to heat up. She carefully places the condom on the tip and then starts trying to unroll it only to have him stop her.

"It goes the other way, love," he gently tells her.

Ignoring the fact that her cheeks are probably bright red at this point, she flips the prophylactic over and easily unrolls it down his length causing him to groan. He takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself before reaching into the bag again. He pulls out a small squeeze bottle, opens it, takes her hand in his and then squirts a small amount of clear, slippery gel into the palm of her hand.

"What's this?" she asks, carefully touching it with a finger.

"Lubricant," he answers as he returns the bottle to the bag. "It'll make things go much smoother."

"Another condition of my surrender?" she questions nervously.

"Oh yes," he purrs as he guides her hand into place.

She gives a nervous gulp and then slides her hand down his erection causing him to moan as his eyes roll back in his head. Slightly encouraged by his reaction, her fingers wrap around him and he gives a small grunt. She starts to spread the lube and soon he's groaning and thrusting into her hand. She's amazed by her ability to affect him like this and more than a little turned on by it.

Suddenly, her hands are pinned above her head, her legs are forced apart and he's inside her. She gives a startled cry which quickly turns to grunts of her own as he pounds into her, quickly driving her towards the precipice. He releases her hands and wraps his arms around her body, holding her close as he continues his insane pace.

"Mine," he grunts in a deep guttural voice. "My mate."

"Oh God, YES!" she shrieks as her orgasm hits.

It takes him a couple more thrusts before he roars his completion, not bothering to muffle the noise this time. They lie there panting and shaking and she's dimly aware that her ear is ringing from that roar. Suddenly, his body violently shakes and he takes a deep, gasping breath before collapsing on top of her, trembling.

"Hank," she gasps. "Can't breathe."

"Oh heavens, Amanda, I'm sorry," he says as he quickly scrambles off of her.

She lies there spread eagle and takes a very deep breath and he just wants to crawl in a hole. Beast sits smugly in the back of his mind, very proud of itself for taking over long enough to pleasure their mate.

"Are you alright?" he softly asks.

"I don't think I'm ever going to be able to get my feet together again," she tells him with a smile.

"I'm sorry," he whispers as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed with his back to her.

"For what?" she asks.

"I'm afraid Beast got the better of me again," he quietly admits, not able to look at her. "I had hoped to make your first experiences with me more enjoyable."

She forces her tired body to roll over and move despite the complaints of many sore muscles. She crawls over to him and circles his neck with her arms, draping herself along his back. She moves her face next to his and rubs her cheek against him

"Care to explain," she requests as she rests her head against his.

"I bit you earlier this morning and just now I all but flattened you," he says miserably. "Perhaps I'm not the one for you."

"Perhaps that's something I should be allowed to decide," she points out as she presses herself against him more thoroughly. "Hank, the first time I had sex, I was drunk, we were both virgins and neither one of us had a clue to what the hell we were doing. The second time was a complete disappointment. For six months I lived with Bobbi and I could never understand her obsession with sex, but now I do and it's because of you. You'll excuse me if I'm not really interested in finding someone else who can do that for me. I've waited too long to find someone who makes me happy and I'm not giving you up without a fight, whether he be man or beast."

"Amanda, I…," he starts, the sound of defeat in his voice, but he's stopped by her suddenly nipping his jaw.

"Mine," she whispers as she tightens her arms and presses herself more firmly against his back. "My mate."

She holds him tight, waiting for his response, afraid that his feelings for her have changed since last night. She can feel him trembling and he takes a deep breath as he reaches up and caresses the arms around his neck. He rubs his cheek against hers and she can feel the tension leave his body as he lets that deep breath out.

"You know, I've changed my mind about this bed," he states after a few minutes of silence.

"Oh?" she questions.

"Yes, I've decided that it does need to come back to New York with us," he continues.

"Oh really?" she smiles.

"Yes, I'm going to have it bronzed," he tells her and she falls over laughing.

"That's going to make it very hard to sleep in," she points out when she catches her breath.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are lately?" he asks out of the blue, leaning over her prone body.

"You're not so bad yourself, sir," she quietly tells him as she reaches up and brushes some of his rather mussed up mane out of his face.

He leans over and gently kisses her, making it last for as long as possible. When he pulls back, her hands are tangled in his hair again and he smiles at her.

"We should get cleaned up and dressed," he says and she gets a sneaky look on her face.

"Not up for round three?" she teases.

"No, and even if I was, I doubt you would survive it," he chuckles.

"You're probably right," she moans as she sits up, wincing. "I'm sore in places it didn't think I could be sore."

"I'd offer to rub and make better, but I have a feeling that would end with us being even later than we already are," he replies with a smile.

"Oh God, don't remind me," she groans. "I think this will be one of the hardest Christmases that I've ever had to endure."

"Are you sure you don't want me there?" he asks as he helps her to sit up.

"No, I'll tell them on my own," she answers. "After they're done with me, the Spanish Inquisition will look like a walk in the park. There's no sense in putting you through that too."

"As my lady wishes," he replies unhappily and she reaches out to caress his face.

"What I wish is that I could tuck my tail between my legs and run away to Vermont with you like the sniveling little coward that I am," she mutters and he chuckles.

"Ah, but you see, you're not tucking your tail in and running," he points out as he pulls her into his arms. "You're standing and facing them like a lioness."

"A lioness with her knees knocking," she sighs as she rests her head on his shoulder.

"But a lioness none the less," he replies as he gives her a gentle squeeze. "Now, let's go get ready to face the day."

"Are you sure I can't hide under the covers and hope the whole thing just goes away?" she nearly begs.

"Positive," he laughs as he pulls her out of the bed and forces her to stand on her own two feet. "Now go take your shower and I'll go take mine"

"We could save water if we took a shower together," she suggests with a sly look.

"Tempting, but no," he tells her with a kiss on the nose. "Now go."

With that, he turns her around and gives her a gentle push towards the bathroom. She turns back around to give one final protest only to see the door between their rooms being shut. She glares at the door for a few moments before heading for the bathroom, sulking all the way.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, she's cleaned, dressed and in the process of packing her things when Hank reopens the door.

"Amanda, you better come see this," he says in a very serious tone.

She follows him into his room and sees that he has the TV on a local news channel. It's obvious he wants her to see something on the set, so she watches it for a moment and then her eyes get very wide.

"Sweet Jesus," she whispers in shock.


	49. Crash

**Author's Notes:** Thank you J-Horror Fan 4-ever, Takerslady, LifeBringsMeOnlyTears, Mythigal, Sorceress Eternity, Erisah Mae, maraluch, LovelyLadyJem, MYDLS, asp and the NightEnchntress for your reviews. Asp, I'm sorry to lose you as a reader, but I did warn that this story would go Adult in the very first chapter. Thanks to everyone who gave me encouraging words after the dogo review, my muse is feeling much better now.

* * *

"_Now according to the car's driver, his vehicle simply stalled just as he was crossing the train tracks at about 4:30 this morning on his way to work," the reporter explains, a scene of devastation behind her. "He attempted to restart the car and when that failed, he tried to push it off of the tracks. However, the older model Ford Bronco was too heavy to move and the driver was unable to get assistance before a cargo train hit the Bronco and derailed. Authorities have confirmed that the train engineer was air lifted from the scene and is currently in critical condition. Until the officials are done investigating the accident and crews start to remove the wreck, there will be no train service getting in or out of Ashley, Virginia from any of the northern lines. Now, as you can see behind me…"_

Hank turns off the TV and turns to look at Amanda to see that she's gone white as a sheet. He goes to her and pulls her into his arms as she stands there trembling. He stands there holding her for quite some time as the shock of the news finally starts to wear off.

"How am I going to get to my parent's place?" she quietly asks, clinging to him.

"You can fly," he suggests.

"There aren't any airports all that close to Ashley," she tells him. "But I guess I don't have a lot of choices."

She reluctantly leaves the safety of his arms and heads back to her room where she pulls her computer out of its bag and sets it up on the desk to start trying to find a flight to Virginia.

* * *

More than an hour later, she closes her phone and stares down at the remains of her breakfast that she barely remembers eating.

"Well, that's it," she sighs as she takes a sip of her lukewarm coffee. "There isn't a flight to any part of Virginia until after Christmas and all the car rental agencies have left are Hummers. I guess I should just head back to New York."

"There is another option that you haven't tried," he says and she looks up at him.

"What's that? Horseback? Pack mule? Carrier pigeon?" she asks, more exhausted from her futile search than the lack of sleep she got from the night before.

"I could drive you," he tells her.

"Have you lost your mind?" she demands. "You have a wonderful vacation in Vermont waiting for you. Why in the world would you want to voluntarily spend it with a bunch of crazy people?"

"Because you're there," he calmly answers.

"I can't ask you to drive me all the way there," she says.

"You're not," he reminds her. "I'm offering. Either I drive you to your parent's place in Virginia and spend Christmas with you and your family or you come with me to Vermont."

"As much as I would love to run away with you to Vermont, there would be Hell to pay if I did," she replies in defeat. "Are you sure about this?"

"Very," he assures her and she looks at her watch.

"Really, really sure?" she asks.

"Extremely sure," he answers her with a smile and she sighs in defeat.

"They shouldn't have left for church yet," she states miserably as she opens her cell phone again. "May the Lord have mercy on me."

Hank watches her as she silently scrolls through her phone numbers until she finds the one she wants and then hits the call button. She sits there with a worried look on her face as she brings the phone to her ear and waits. Hank signals their server for the check and then quietly waits as a woman's voice answers a phone somewhere in Virginia.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom, it's Amy," Amanda greets.

"Oh heaven's, Amy, have you watched the news?" her mother asks.

"Yeah, I saw the reports; that's why I'm calling," Amanda answers. "I've just spent more than an hour checking and all flights are booked until after Christmas and the only thing the car rental agencies have left are Hummers."

"Well, don't you worry, honey," Cathy assures her. "I'll have your father come and pick you up or something."

"No, Mom, don't send Dad to come and get me," Amanda replies.

"Well, how do you propose to be here in time for Christmas?" Cathy demands. "Hitchhike?"

"No, Mom, I'll be there," Amanda assures her.

"How?" Cathy questions and Amanda takes a deep, calming breath and lets it out.

"A friend is willing to drive me," Amanda tells her hesitantly.

"Oh," Cathy says and pauses. "That's an awful long way for a friend to drive you."

"This is a very good friend," Amanda explains and Hank quirks an eyebrow at her, a smile twitching at his lips.

"Does your friend have a name?" Cathy asks and Amanda looks like she wants to crawl under a rock.

"Hank," Amanda finally admits after several seconds. "His name is Hank."

Amanda cringes as she holds the phone away from her ear and both of Hank's eyebrows are threatening to merge with his hairline.

"**STUART, OUR PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED!"** Cathy yells at the top of her lungs. **"AMY'S BRINGING HOME A **_**MAN**_**!"**

"Oh dear God," Amanda groans as she drops her head to the table and Hank all but falls out of his chair laughing.

"Amy?" Cathy calls. "Amy, are you there?"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm here," Amanda answers as she glares at Hank and he can't help snickering.

"Is he straight?" Cathy inquires, trying to make it sound like an everyday question.

"Yes, Mom, he's straight," Amanda reluctantly answers.

"Is that him I hear laughing?" Cathy questions.

"Yeah, that's him," Amanda replies, shooting Hank a nasty look and he can't help but keep chuckling

"That's wonderful that your friend is going to drive you all the way down here," Cathy says, happy as a lark. "Will he be staying for Christmas?"

"Yeah, I think that's the plan," Amanda responds.

"Ok, that's good," Cathy responds. "Is there anything special I need to know? Anything he would particularly like? Any foods I should avoid?"

"Mom wants to know if you need anything or have any food allergies," Amanda tells him after covering the mouth piece.

"No, she needn't put herself through any trouble for me," he replies.

"No, Mom, he doesn't need anything and there's no food allergies," Amanda relays to her mother. "He says not to go through any trouble for him."

"Oh, don't be silly, sweetheart, it'll be no trouble at all," Cathy assures her in a very happy voice. "What's his favorite food?"

"Mom, just make what you'd normally make and everything will be fine," Amanda warns. "I don't want another Doug incident. Understand?"

"Of course, sweetie," Cathy answers in that sugar sweet tone that tells Amanda that her mother isn't really listening to a word she's saying.

"We need to get going now, Mom," Amanda says, hoping to end the phone call as soon as she can. "We'll see you tonight."

"Ok, sweetie, drive carefully," Cathy nearly sings and then hangs up.

"I'm doomed," she states as she closes her phone and then drops her head to the table with a loud 'thunk', rattling the dishes and cutlery when she does.

"It's not that bad," he chuckles as he rubs her back.

"So says the man who's willingly going into the lion's den," she grumbles and he laughs.

"Come on, let's go finish packing," he says as he helps her to her feet.

She willingly lets him take her back upstairs and once they're back in her room, stands there staring at the bed they not so long ago shared. He returns to his own room to finish packing and comes back some time later to find her still standing there.

"Unless you've suddenly become telekinetic, I don't think standing and staring at the bed is going to help you pack," he jokes, a bit worried by her lack of movement.

"Make love to me," she suddenly requests, catching him completely off guard.

"Excuse me?" he asks in surprise.

"Make love to me," she repeats, finally looking him in the eye.

"We really should get going," he points out.

"What time is check out?" she asks.

"Noon, I believe," he answers, still perplexed. "Amanda, what's going on?"

"Good, that gives us a couple of hours before we have to leave," she says as she moves closer to him.

"Amanda, we should get going soon," he repeats as he backs up. "Your parents will be expecting us."

"My parents think we're in New York," she tells him as she keeps coming towards him. "This gives us a couple extra hours."

"Amanda, please explain yourself," he insists as he finds himself backed up against the bed.

"When we get to my parents house, there will be none of this," she states as her arms snake around his neck and she presses herself against him. "Or this."

She gives him a slow, sensual kiss which has a certain part of his body starting to take notice. Beast isn't helping, urging Hank to take her up on her offer and he can't stop his arms from wrapping around her. When the kiss finally ends, he's barely holding onto control and she's watching him with eyes dark with desire.

"Amanda, I would really like an explanation," he states, his voice a bit shakier than he would like it to be.

"When we get to my parents house, there will be no kissing, no hugging, no cuddling, not even holding hands and we most certainly won't be sharing a room," she tells him.

"Are you that afraid of what your parents will think?" he asks, trying to ignore the fingers that have worked their way below the fur and are currently driving him mad.

"No, but you should be worried about my father and his shotgun," she replies as she pushes her hips forward and he groans. "I'm pretty sure my mother has her pastor on speed dial."

"You're not playing fair," he moans.

"I'm a woman who's about to take her boyfriend home to meet her parents for the first time," she points out. "I'm desperate."

"You weren't planning on seducing me before I was going to your parents, were you?" he asks.

"It was going to be hard without you there, but I'm pretty sure I could have handled it," she answers without truly answering as she rubs her cheek against his. "Now you're going to be there and I won't be able to touch you. It's going to be torture."

He can feel her body trembling and he instinctively holds her closer. She nuzzles his ear with her nose and then starts to nibble on it and he groans. He fights Beast for control as she starts to rub her body against his and he can't stop the erection she's creating.

"Please, Hank," she whispers in his ear.

"As my lady wishes," he softly replies and then he starts to nibble on her ear, barely noticing Beast backing off.

His hand slides under her sweater and slowly caresses the soft, warm skin as she kisses her way from his ear to his lips. He kisses her long and deep, a holding her head in place, getting his fingers tangled in her black tresses. He's so lost in the taste of her, the feel of her, that he barely notices his shirt being pulled out of his pants.

Before she can bury her fingers into that deep fur, he pushes her back a bit and pulls her top off. Not to be outdone, his soon follows hers to the floor and he stands there staring at the bit of lace, satin and elastic standing between him and her breasts. She quickly reaches behind her and deftly undoes the clasp, letting her bra just slide down her arms until it too is on the floor.

He reaches up and cups her breasts in his hands, gently rubbing his thumbs over her nipples and causing her to moan. She goes for his pants while his hands are busy and soon his slacks are around his ankles. His boxers are sticking way out and she hesitantly reaches out and strokes what's hidden behind the silk.

He lets out a deep throated growl and before she knows what's happening, she's on her back on the bed and the rest of her clothes are being hastily removed. As soon as he's done stripping her, his clothes are next to go and by the time he looks back at her she's holding a still wrapped condom in her hand and quirking an eyebrow at him.

He pulls her to the edge of the bed and passionately kisses her, leaving them both breathless while his erection pokes her in the stomach. She hesitantly touches it, delicately running her fingertips up and down its length causing him to groan. Suddenly she's on her back and he's leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down her neck and chest until he's found one of her nipples.

She gasps as she grabs the back of his head and he sucks and licks that little bud into a hard pebble again. By the time he lets it go he has her moaning and panting and he's feeling rather proud of himself. He blows on the wet spot making her gasp again and then starts to work his way over to the other nipple. She wraps her legs around him the best she can as he tries to drive her completely insane as he suckles on that little pink bud.

He gathers her in his arms and moves her towards the center of the bed all while still sucking and licking on her nipple. She wiggles and writhes beneath him as he continues to assault her senses, quickly driving her crazy. He spots the still unopened condom lying nearby and grabs it while he starts working his way up to her neck.

He opens the foil packet and slides the prophylactic on all while suckling on her neck and ear causing her to whimper and moan. He goes to reach for the lube and he's nearly startled right out of his fur as one of her hands grabs a hold of him and starts stroking him. He looks down and sees the glisten of lube being spread along his length. He turns his gaze upon her face that has a very smug little smirk on it.

"I guess you're not as sneaky as you thought you were," she tells him as she slides the bottle back towards the bag.

He chuckles low in his throat and then kisses her so hard and fast that she lets out a squeak of surprise. It doesn't take him long before he has her so worked up that she's not sure she could tell someone her name if asked. He lets her up for air as he pulls her hand away and insinuates himself between her legs.

He slides into her causing her to groan and then he gets a devious idea that has Beast purring. He wraps an arm around her as he gently kisses her and she gladly circles his neck with her own arms. Once he's sure she has a good hold, he plants his free hand flat on the bed and pushes himself up into a sitting position, dragging her along with him.

She lets out a loud gasping moan as he sinks even deeper into her heat and he groans himself at the feeling of being completely sheathed within her body. He pauses only a moment and then he starts thrusting up into her, letting gravity bring her back down and getting the most delightful cries from her. He sets a pace that only someone with enhanced strength can do and maintain and all she can do is hold on for the ride.

The feeling of him completely filling her, of his fur rubbing against her nipples and of him holding her so carefully makes her wish it will never end. All that delightful friction has her panting and moaning as he continues to drive himself into her like a well oiled piston. Suddenly, she can feel it coming and she cries out his name as she convulsively grabs hands full of hair while she rides the waves of her orgasm.

A few moments later, he's holding her limp, panting form, kissing her sweaty brow, knowing that there is no one else he wishes to be this close to. He gently lies her down with her head on a pillow, careful not to pull out of her just yet since he's nowhere near done himself. Once he has them both in place, he softly kisses her lips, slowly drawing her back to reality.

"Hi," she says lazily, her eyes only half way open.

"Hi, yourself," he purrs and he gives his hips a little push, causing her to moan.

"Oh God, you're not done," she moans as one of his hands gently brushes the side of one of her breasts.

"No, my love," he says in that sexy voice and she rolls her head to the side.

He starts to kiss and nibble on her neck and ear while he continues to stroke the side of her breast, delighted to feel her heart rate go up and hear her respiration increase. It doesn't take him long to start getting a reaction out of her and a small nip to her neck is all it takes to finish getting her fully aroused again. She tilts her hips forward and that's all the invitation he needs to start moving again.

He sets a slow pace at first until she bites his shoulder letting him know that it's not acceptable. He speeds it up and soon she's making the soft mewling sounds again. He looks down at her and sees her hair a black halo around her head, her body covered in a thin layer of sweat, her eyes closed again and a look of ecstasy on her face.

Suddenly Beast surges forward, catching Hank by surprise, but it doesn't take over, it merges with him again. Soon he's pounding into her and her cries fill the room as he can feel the familiar tingling at the base of his spine. He growls a warning of his impending release and a second later he feels her body stiffen beneath him as she cries out once more. He roars his own completion into the pillow, managing to bite it instead of her this time.

They lie there together for a short eternity as they slowly come down to Earth, their heartbeats eventually returning to a normal rate and their breathing settling into a steady rhythm. He softly kisses her nose and then carefully climbs off of her before sliding off the bed. He takes care of the used condom and returns to see her still lying there, watching him with half lidded eyes, the gold heart pendant glistening against the pale skin of her chest.

"We should finish packing," he states when it's obvious that she has no intention of moving.

"Hold me," she requests, holding a hand out to him. "Just for a little while."

He draws a breath to argue that they really should get going and then he sees the pleading look in her eyes. He lets the air out in a puff and then crawls into the bed beside her.

"As my lady wishes," he says quietly as she snuggles up to him.

With a contented sigh, he wraps his arms around her and within a few minutes they're both drifting into a light doze.

* * *

As before, there's a slightly longer version of this chapter on the aff site. 


	50. Meet the Family

**Author's Notes:** Thank you Takerslady, LovelyLadyJem, Maraluch, theNightEnchantress, Mythygal and SparrowsVixon for your reviews.

* * *

"Are you still blushing?" she asks, trying not to giggle.

"I am _not_ blushing," he grumbles, trying to work up a good sulk. "I'm completely humiliated, mortified."

"Why?" she questions, looking up at him. "Because some people whom you've never met and aren't likely to ever meet, heard you when we were having sex?"

"They heard you too, need I remind you," he points out as he settles his arm around her shoulders a little bit more comfortably. "And I prefer the term making love."

"The people that heard us will eventually decide that someone turned on a TV with the volume cranked up," she tells him as she lays her head back down on his shoulder. "And you're right, making love sounds better than sex."

"Still, it's quite embarrassing," he mutters while he accelerates around a slower car.

"Hence the reason why you're still blushing," she teases.

"I am not blushing!" he insists.

"Right, so your skin is just turning a darker shade of blue and you're fur is bristling just for the fun of it," she continues with an ill contained snicker.

"You can always walk the rest of the way, missy," he warns, though it's hard to believe him with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Would you really do that?" she purrs as she rubs her nose against his cheek. "Would you really leave me out here in the middle of nowhere? Poor, defenseless little me?"

"You are anything but defenseless," he retorts as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Now stop that or we won't make it to your parent's in time for dinner."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she replies as she settles back down. "It's not too late to back out."

"Your parents are expecting us," he reminds her. "And besides, I want to meet them."

"You'll be eating those words," she warns him and he chuckles.

"I really doubt that your family is as bad as you make them out to be," he says and she scoffs.

"Boy, are you in for a surprise," she snorts.

"How much further until we get to your parents?" he asks.

"Maybe another half hour," she answers. "We need to take the next exit, drive through town and then they're about another five minutes past the outskirts."

A short time later they're pulling off of the interstate and soon they're making their way through the center of town. Reluctantly, she leaves her comfortable spot next to him and slides over to where she's supposed to be. Even though she's only moved a couple of feet away, he can already feel the loss of her touch.

He rests his hand on the still warm seat between them and she gently places her hand on top of his. They drive on in silence through the fairly busy streets as last minute shoppers rush to finish their holiday shopping before the stores close. Even though most people are absorbed with their errands, some still notice the very strange man driving through town and stop and stare.

"It seems we're drawing attention," he observes as they wait at a stop light.

"Are you surprised?" she asks with a smile. "It's not every day that the US Ambassador to the UN drives through town."

He looks at her, captures the hand on top of his and kisses the back of it all while staring at her rather intently.

"The light's green," she tells him. "We better get going before the camera crews get here."

Reluctantly, he turns his attention back to the road and presses his foot down on the accelerator. They drive along the main drag with her praying that no one she knows will see her, or at least, no one who happens to have access to a phone and her mother's phone number handy. This is one surprise she doesn't want ruined and speaking of surprises, there's a special surprise that she needs to get.

"Hank, would you mind stopping in this shopping center for a bit?" she requests, pointing to a strip mall just up ahead.

"No, of course not," he answers as he glances over at her. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," she replies with a grin as he parks. "I'll be right back."

He watches her as she gets out of the car and then quickly crosses the parking lot. When he sees the store she goes into, he's got a pretty good idea what she's up to and he has to chuckle to himself.

* * *

Cathy goes to wipe her hands dry when she hears the doorbell ring and then heads for the front door. As soon as she comes around the corner she can see that Stuart beat her to the door and she gladly opens her arms to the two small bodies flying towards her.

"Grandma!" the girls cry in unison as they charge the older woman.

"Hello, my darlings, how are you?" Cathy gladly greets as her granddaughters hug her. "Did you have fun visiting Grandma Claire?"

"Yeah, but Jessie was there and he made fun our dresses," Bethany complains.

"He said our hats are stupid too," Beverly pouts.

"Well, Jessie has no fashion sense, so what does he know?" Cathy assures them. "We'll be serving dinner as soon as Aunt Amy gets here, so you better go get cleaned up."

"Ok," the girls reply in unison before taking off towards the bathroom to wash their hands.

"Mom, why is the table set with the fine china and crystal?" Annie asks as she brings in a couple of bags worth of presents.

"And why is there an extra place setting?" Paul questions as he looks over the table.

"You aren't going to believe it," Cathy excitedly tells her daughter. "Amy's bringing home a man."

"She's what?" Annie squeaks, all of the color draining from her face.

"She's not bringing another gay guy is she?" Mike asks as he walks into the house, carrying several pieces of luggage.

"No, I asked," Cathy answers. "She said he's straight."

"The guy got a name?" Mike inquires as he heads for the stairs.

"Hank," Stuart grumbles as he follows his son-in-law towards the steps with his own load of bags. "What kind of name is Hank?"

"Hank is a perfectly fine name," Cathy tells him.

"He's probably is some overweight, flannel wearing truck driver with teeth missing," Stuart continues grousing as he makes his way up the stairs. "Probably chews tobacco too. Probably didn't finish grade school either."

"And that would be your father in overprotective mode again," Cathy chuckles as she turns back to her daughter. "Are you alright?"

"Peachy," Annie growls before turning and going to put the presents under the tree.

"What's the matter?" Cathy asks, following her daughter.

"I was looking forward to actually taking my contacts out and now I find out that I'm going to have to wear them the whole time," Annie huffs. "Do you have any idea how uncomfortably these things are?"

"I know, sweetheart, but it can't be helped," Cathy replies. "Can't you just be happy that you're sister is finally bringing home a man? She hasn't been as lucky as you have when it comes to guys and it would be nice if we didn't ruin this for her."

"Fine," Annie sighs as she stands back up. "I'd better go help Mike unpack."

With that, Annie heads upstairs, passing her father on the stairs on the way and giving him a passing kiss on the cheek when she does. She heads for her old room where she finds Mike already working on sorting through the clothes and putting them away. She quietly and calmly closes the door, walks over to the bed and then throws herself down on it, screaming into the bedding as she kicks and punches the hapless piece of furniture.

"I could be wrong, but I'm guessing you're upset about something," Mike muses after she's worn herself out.

"I had it all perfectly planned," she huffs after she rolls over onto her back. "She was going to watch the kids while we went to that little bed-n-breakfast that I love. We were finally going to have some time to ourselves. Now she has to go and ruin it by bringing _him_ here to meet Mom and Dad."

"As much as I would love to run away with you for the weekend, the knowledge that your sister was watching our kids would kind of ruin it for me," he replies as he leans over her prone body. "We'd be calling her every ten minutes to make sure she wasn't putting the kids into a diabetic coma or something."

"Oh, she wouldn't feed them sugar while she watches them," she assures him with a growl. "She'd wait until we were about to get home and then she'd get them hyped up."

"And you were willing to let her do that?" he asks.

"Yes!" she nearly shouts. "I need a break!"

"Ok, ok, I understand," he chuckles as he leans down to kiss her. "We'll figure something out."

"Who'd have thought she would have had the guts to bring another guy here," she sighs, staring at the ceiling. "You'd think after that thing with her gay friend she'd never bring another guy home again."

"What makes you think she wanted to?" he asks as he goes back to unpacking. "After that train wreck this morning, it may have been the only way for her to get here."

"Think she'll lord it over me that I can't blackmail her anymore?" she asks.

"Only every second of every day we're here," he answers and she groans. "Hey, I warned you not to do it. But would you listen to me? No. And don't be surprised if the main ingredient of our kids' diets is sugar for the rest of the week."

"Maybe they'll get four flats and not be able to make it," she wistfully hopes.

"Not likely since they just drove up," Mike tells her as he looks out the window.

"Oh, God, I don't want to go down there," she moans as he pulls her to her feet and into his arms.

"Come on," he murmurs as he gives her a gentle kiss. "It's not everyday you get to meet the US Ambassador to the UN."

Her only response to that is a whimper.

* * *

He hears her take a deep breath to try and calm her nerves and if the hand holding his is any indication, it didn't really help. He kisses that hand and she gently squeezes his fingers. He glances over at her and she gives him a nervous smile.

"Are you sure about this?" she asks. "It's not too late to make a break for it."

"As sure as anything else I've done in the past twenty-four hours," he assures her. "And I haven't regretted _any_ of those decisions."

"Do you remember what I told you about my family?" she questions.

"You're father will head for his gun at the slightest hint that we've slept together," he reiterates for her. "Your mother will grill me about how I feel about marriage and children, your sister probably won't say much of anything, I should never accept a challenge to a computer game from your nephew, your nieces think they're escapees from a Disney movie who refuse to wear anything but their costumes from last Halloween and your brother-in-law is the only sane one of the bunch."

"Ok, you're as prepared as I can get you without sending you to a shrink first," she tells him. "Make the next right, the house will be on the right about a half mile down."

He follows her instructions and a few minutes later they're pulling up in front of a wood frame Gothic Revival home. She gives his hand one final squeeze before letting go and then undoes her seatbelt. Taking yet another calming breath, she opens the door into the cold December evening air.

She gets out of the car just as the front door opens and a couple of little bodies come hurtling towards her. She braces herself and only gets knocked back a step as the twins ram into her. She chuckles as she hugs the girls and then looks up to see the rest of her family coming out onto the porch.

Her father has a fake smile plastered to his face; her mother has a huge grin on hers, Mike looks like he's about to start laughing, her sister looks pissed and Paul looks bored. She can hear Hank's car door open and she knows the instant he comes into view to the others. Mike's desperately trying not to laugh; her sister turns as white as a sheet and everyone else's jaws drop while their eyes become wide as saucers.

"Everyone, this is Hank McCoy," Amanda announces and the twins step back to see the newcomer as he comes around the car. "Hank, these are my parents, Stuart and Cathy, my brother-in-law Mike, my sister Annie, my nephew Paul and my nieces, Bethany and Beverly."

"A pleasure to meet you all," Hank says as he goes to shake Stuart's hand.

"I like him," Beverly announces and Hank turns to look at her. "He's furry like a kitty."

"And he's blue like a bluebell," Bethany states, not to be out done by her sister and most of the adults laugh.

"Ambassador, it's an honor to have you in our home," Stuart says, finally getting over the shock and putting his hand out.

"The honor is all mine," Hank replies as he shakes the offered hand. "And please, call me Hank."

"This is my wife, Cathy," Stuart states as he turns towards his wife.

"Mrs. Simon, a pleasure," Hank says as he shakes the woman's hand.

"Please call me Cathy and I can't tell you how happy I am to meet you," Cathy replies as she shakes Hank's hand.

"Can we go in now?" Paul asks impatiently. "I'm hungry."

"Ah yes, Mr. Paul," Hank jovially greets. "Your aunt tells me you're quite the computer wizard."

"Yeah, I guess," Paul replies with shrug, suddenly becoming a bit shy with Hank's attention completely on him.

"I'm Flora," Bethany proudly announces, tugging on Hank's coat to get his attention.

"I'm Fauna," Beverly chimes in, not to be out done by her siblings.

"And what a couple lovely fairy godmothers you two are, too," Hank chuckles as he looks down at the girls in their costumes.

"They're not really fairy godmothers," Paul snorts.

"Yes, we are!" Bethany yells, stomping her foot.

"It's a good thing for you we're good fairy godmothers or we'd curse you," Beverly adds heatedly.

"Alright you three, that's enough," Mike interrupts as he steps forward. "Go inside and get ready for dinner."

"But we already washed our hands," Bethany whines.

"Then go help your grandmother get dinner on the table," Mike instructs. "Now scoot!"

There's some minor grumbling from the kids as they head back inside with their grandmother and then Mike extends his hand towards Hank.

"Hi, Hank, I'm Mike," Mike tells the mutant as they shake hands. "Hopefully, Amy hasn't told you too many horror stories about me."

"Just enough to keep me entertained for the drive," Hank replies with a wink and a smile. "I take it that lovely lady behind you is Annie."

"Yes, the walking statue is my lovely bride," Mike chuckles as he drags Annie forward.

"Hello, Annie, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," Hank says, turning his attention to an almost perfect duplicate of his own lady. "I've heard quite a lot about you."

"Hi," Annie squeaks, managing to turn even whiter.

"Wow, that was actually coherent," Amanda teases and Annie shoots her a withering glare.

"Is that roasted chicken I smell?" Hank interrupts as he takes a deep sniff of the air. "And pork roast? And…lasagna?"

"MOM!" Amanda yells as she charges up the front steps. "What part of 'don't go through any trouble' _didn't_ you understand!?"

Amanda charges into the house with Annie right behind her, leaving Hank standing there with Stuart and Mike.

"I guess I better get the bags," Hank chuckles as he turns back towards the car.

"Here, let us help you with those," Stuart says as Hank remotes the trunk open.

Before Hank can object, Stuart and Mike are grabbing bags out of the trunk and Hank is silently thankful that Amanda was paranoid enough to hide the garment bags with their formal clothes in them, since neither one of them is quite prepared to tell her parents where she really was when they started out. Hank grabs his own bags, shuts the trunk and follows the other two men into the house. As soon as they're through the door, Mike heads off down one way towards the Christmas tree with the bags of presents he's carrying and Stuart heads for the stairs.

"Your room is up here, Hank," Stuart calls while he ascends the steps and Hank easily follows the older man.

"I want to thank you for taking me in at such short notice," Hank says as they stop at the first door at the top of the stairs and Stuart puts Amanda's bags inside the room.

"Not a problem," Stuart replies as he waves Hank on and then points to another room a few doors down. "There's the bathroom. There's another one downstairs and in the morning, your best bet is to head for that one. You'll be bunking in here."

Stuart waves Hank into a room with a queen sized bed against a wall with a pair of nightstands on either side and a chest of drawers off to one side. In one corner of the room is a sewing table with the sewing machine folded under the top and a basket with a half finished project next to it. As if the Singer wasn't a big enough clue, the cream and peach color scheme makes it very obvious who spends the most time in this room.

"It's very nice, thank you," Hank responds as he puts his bags down next to the bed. "I know dinner is to be served soon, so I'll just freshen up and then I'll be right down."

"Ok, see you in a bit," Stuart says and then leaves.

Hank visits the restroom and after he's done washing his hands, he stares at himself in the mirror over the sink, wondering if her family is really as accepting as she says they are.

* * *

Here's a picture of how I've imagined Amanda's parents' house would look like: http://architecture(dot)about(dot)com/od/periodsstyles/ss/gothicrevival6(dot)htm 


	51. Dinner with the Family

**Author's Notes:** Thank you LovelyLadyJem, Takerslady, SparrowsVixon, theNightEnchantress, Erisah Mae, Mythigal and AngerManagementIssues45 for your reviews. Not as funny as some of my past chapters, but still amusing none the less.

* * *

"Mom, he said not to go through any trouble," Amanda reminds her mother.

"Oh, it wasn't any trouble at all," Cathy happily tells her

"You've set the table with the good china, crystal, silverware, a lace table cloth and cloth napkins," Amanda grinds out between her teeth. "Plus, you've made two different types of salads, three entrees, homemade rolls, God knows how many side dishes and you're telling me that it's not any trouble?"

"It's a special occasion," Cathy answers as she comes out of the kitchen carrying a green bean casserole and Amanda briefly wishes the inventor of that gastronomical nightmare was standing right there so she could take her frustration out on him or her. "After all, it's not like you bring home men on a regular basis."

"After what happened with Doug, do you blame me?" Amanda demands while following her mother into the kitchen and has a bowl of mashed potatoes thrust into her hands.

"I'll admit that we were a bit…over enthusiastic," Cathy admits as she picks up a platter of roast pork.

"You were certifiably insane, the whole lot of you," Amanda flatly states while they head back to the dinning room.

"Well, if you just brought home guys a little more often…," Cathy implies as they set their loads down.

"I'm not sure I'd put my worst enemy through what you put Doug through," Amanda nearly growls, staring at the over laden table before her.

"Which says what about your relationship with Hank?" Mike chortles as he steps into the room.

"That I'm beginning to worry about his sanity," she mutters under her breath before answering Mike. "Hank's a big boy; he can take care of himself."

"I bet," Mike snickers suggestively before changing his attitude when Stuart walks into the room. "I put the presents you brought by the tree. I know how you women are about arranging things just so, so I left them in the bags."

"Thanks, Mike," Amanda sighs as the rest of her family joins her in the dining room, bringing in the last of the food with them. "Now I guess we're just waiting for Hank."

"He wanted to freshen up first and then he'll be down," Stuart tells her.

"Great," she replies before adding under her breath, "and then the grilling can begin."

* * *

When Hank makes his way back downstairs, he finds Mike waiting for him.

"Ready for the Spanish Inquisition?" Mike asks with a grin.

"I'm sure it won't be that bad," Hank chuckles.

"I'd like to say that Stuart has mellowed with age, but I'd be lying through my teeth," Mike chuckles and then steps closer to Hank, continuing quietly and quickly. "Don't expect to get within arm's reach of Amy while you're here. The two of you will never be left alone at any time and every word, gesture and glance will be noted and analyzed. Trust me, I've been there."

"Duly noted," Hank replies, a bit shocked.

"Come on," Mike cheerfully says with a wave as he starts to head down the hallway. "I'll show you the way to the dining room."

"Thank you," Hank responds as he follows the other man.

"In there you'll find your only hope of relief first thing in the morning," Mike tells him, pointing to a closed door. "If you try to use the upstairs bathroom, be prepared to hold it…for a really long time. When taking a shower, make sure you take everything you need with you. Running around half dressed is frowned upon. If your showers take longer than five minutes, you'll want to do them either in the evening before bed or really early in the morning…say about three a.m."

"I shall definitely keep everything you've told me in mind," Hank says as the sound of people talking grows louder and the scent of food gets stronger. "Thank you for your advice."

"It's the least I can do," Mike replies with smile. "Good luck."

Before Hank can respond, they step into the dining room where organized chaos in going on. Amanda had hold of the back of Paul's shirt while Annie and Cathy are holding onto the twins, trying to keep the kids from killing each other. Mike calmly takes control of his son, drags him over to a chair and plops the boy down in it with Cathy and Annie following suit with the girls.

"Ah, Hank, good you're here," Stuart pleasantly calls out and waves to the seat to his left. "Please, sit here next to me."

"I would be honored," Hank replies as he steps up to the indicated chair.

The others start to take their seats as well and by the time everyone is seated, Hank realizes that he's been effectively cut off from Amanda. To his right is Stuart, across from him is Cathy and Annie with a twin on either side of their mother and to his left is Mike, Paul and finally, at the other end of the table and hard to see unless he leans forward or backward is Amanda. Before he can say anything about the seating arrangements, heads are bowed as hands are clasped in prayer and Grace is said over the meal. Hastily, Hank bows his head in respect for their beliefs and customs and as soon as 'Amen' is murmured around the table he lifts his head and finds a salad bowl being offered to him.

"So, Hank, how did you and Amy meet?" Stuart asks in a friendly tone while Hank serves himself.

"We both attended a masquerade ball at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum back in October," Hank answers as he passes the bowl on to Mike.

"Oooh, did you wear a pretty dress, Aunt Amy?" asks Bethany.

"Yes, I wore a very big dress," Amanda answers.

"Who did you go as?" Beverly questions.

"Christine from **The Phantom of the Opera**," Amanda replies

"Oooh, you must have been so pretty," Bethany squeals. "Do you have pictures?"

"I believe there are pictures somewhere," Amanda responds, turning a lovely shade of pink at the memory of them.

"Who did you go as, Hank?" Beverly inquires excitedly and Amanda can practically hear the man blushing.

"Beast, from **Beauty and the Beast**," Hank mumbles.

Both of the girls squeal with glee and Stuart clears his throat, looking pointedly at his granddaughters as they open their mouths to fire off more questions. They look at their grandfather and then snap their mouths close in unison. Looking for all the world like someone's told them that Christmas has been delayed until summer, the girls turn back to their plates.

"So, how exactly did you two meet at this party?" Stuart questions as he takes a bite of his salad. "I imagine there were a lot of people there."

"I fell on him," Amanda bluntly tells him and Mike nearly spits the wine he had been sipping across the table and quickly goes to dry off the liquid dribbling down his chin with the napkin from his lap.

"Well, in all fairness, I did sneak up behind you and startle you," Hank responds and Mike barely manages turn his laughter into a cough.

"Perhaps you two should start from the beginning," Stuart suggests, sounding a bit less than amused.

Hank looks across the table and sees Cathy and Annie sitting there with their mouths hanging open while the girls are trying to hide their giggles. A quick look down the table and he notices that Mike and Paul are only doing slightly better than the twins. Once the startled adults have regained their composure, Hank and Amanda recount their first meeting, both thankful that they went over this on the long drive down, selectively editing parts out for their younger audience members. By the time they're done telling their tale, the other adults are pretty much speechless and dinner is nearly over.

"That's going to be one heck of a story to tell your kids some day," Mike finally says with a chuckle and Amanda immediately turns bright red.

"Let's not jump the gun here," Stuart warns, nearly glaring at his son-in-law.

"Amanda and I are in no rush to start a family any time soon," Hank assures the older man.

"Don't you want to have kids?" Cathy asks, sounding worried and hurt.

"Someday, perhaps, but I will not force the issue," Hank answers. "This is a decision that should be made by both partners. Bringing a child into this world is a very big decision that should never be taken lightly."

"And of course there is the matter of being married first," Stuart states firmly.

"Not a requirement for children, but I would prefer to be married to the mother of my child," Hank assures the man.

As he talks he can see Cathy casting nervous glances at Amanda, but the older woman says nothing else as she goes back to eating her dinner. Amanda, for her part, acts like she didn't see her mother's worried expression and goes on eating. This doesn't help Cathy's mood and the older woman starts to fidget like she's dying to say something, but doesn't dare.

"Dinner is quite delicious, thank you" Hank tells Cathy, effectively pulling the woman's attention away from her eldest daughter.

"Oh, you're quite welcome," Cathy hastily replies, turning her green eyes back to her blue guest. "I'm glad you're enjoying it, but save room for dessert."

"What's for dessert?" Paul asks excitedly.

"Well, there's apple pie, lemon squares and chocolate cake," Cathy happily answers and Annie gets a horrified look on her face.

"Oh, I wish you had said something before I had second helpings," Mike groans as he leans back in his seat and lays a hand on his belly.

"Grandma, may we have some dessert please?" Bethany requests.

"We ate all of our dinner including our veggies," Beverly adds, proudly showing her empty plate.

"That's up to your mother," Cathy tells them.

"If they get dessert, then I want some too," Paul demands.

"You haven't finished your dinner," Mike points out.

"But I hate carrots," Paul pouts.

"Finish your carrots and then we'll talk dessert," Mike replies.

"I'm full," Paul states.

"Then you're obviously too full for dessert," Mike shoots right back.

"That's not fair!" Paul nearly shouts.

"Inside voice, please, young man," Annie says in a commanding voice. "Your father is right, if you want dessert you need to finish your dinner first."

Paul scowls at his plate and mumbles something under his breath that causes Hank to raise his eyebrows.

"What was that, young man?" Annie growls, cold, hard green eyes staring at her son and Hank immediately recognizes that stare as the one Amanda uses on occasion.

"Nothing," Paul grumbles before stabbing a couple pieces of carrot and sticking them in his mouth.

"May I be excused, Mom?" Bethany asks.

"Me too, please," Beverly adds.

"Yes, you two may go," Annie sighs and the twins nearly leap up from the table, taking their dirty dishes with them.

A moment later and Amanda and Annie are also rising from the table, taking not only their dirty plates and cutlery, but a serving bowl with them as they leave the room. Soon after the women leave, the younger set of twins returns and starts to help clear the table while their brother continues to work his way through his carrots, taking large swallows of his milk between bites. Hank finishes his last bite and gets ready to get up only to have his plate cleared by Amanda as she goes around collecting the dishes with the exception being Paul's plate as the boy glares at the last three pieces of carrot on his plate.

"So, Hank, what made you ask Amy out?" Stuart asks as he picks up his wine glass and cautiously takes a sip.

"A friend suggested I ask her out," Hank answers. "I'm glad she did, too. The past month and a half have had some of the best days of my life in it."

He glances over at Amanda and sees that her cheeks are a bright pink as she makes a hasty retreat out of the room.

"So a female friend told you to ask my daughter out," Stuart clarifies.

"Yes, Ororo Munroe," Hank replies, turning his attention back to the older man. "She's headmistress at Xavier's now and one of my oldest and dearest friends."

"How is the school doing now that its founder is no longer there?" Stuart inquires and Hank is able to tell that the man is sincerely interested.

"It's not quite the same as before, but the school's mission is too important to let it die with its founder," Hank tells him truthfully. "So the school goes on and the students continue to learn and thrive."

"It's good to know that kids like Serena are given a chance to reach their full potential in a safe and caring environment," Stuart says sincerely.

"I can see now where Amanda gets her fine moral character from," Hank says with smile.

"Thank you," Stuart replies proudly. "We like to think that we did an ok job raising our girls."

"Even if one of them did turn out to be a lawyer," Mike snickers quietly.

"A lawyer who spent her own time and money to defend a young mutant when no one else would," Hank points out.

"I helped with that, you know," Paul pipes up suddenly.

"Did you now?" Hank asks, a bit amused.

"Yeah, I got the video off of the broken camcorder," Paul tells him.

"Oh really?" Hank says in surprise.

"Yeah, Paul's quite the computer wiz," Mike states proudly as he ruffles his son's hair. "If it's electronic, he can set it up and figure it out before you even get the directions out of the box. Now finish your dinner, please, young man."

Paul makes a grumbling sound, stabs the last pieces of carrot onto his fork and then reluctantly stuffs them into his mouth. He chews and swallows as fast as he can and then quickly washes it down with the last of his milk.

"Uck," Paul gags with a disgusted look on his face.

"You know, when I was a kid, I didn't like to eat my vegetables either," Hank confides in the young boy. "And if I didn't eat them, my mother gave them to me for breakfast. Back then there weren't any microwaves so I got to eat them cold."

"Ooh, we hadn't thought of that one before," Mike happily states as a look of horror passes over his son's face. "Cold veggies for breakfast. I'll have to let Annie know about that one."

"May I be excused, please?" Paul asks in a small voice.

"Yes, you may," Mike answers and the boy beats a hasty retreat with his dirty plate in hand.

"You wouldn't really make him cold vegetables, would you?" Hank inquires.

"We might," Mike answers. "Getting that kid to eat vegetables is like pulling teeth."

"You know, his mother wasn't much better," Cathy tells them. "She used to feed her lima beans to the cat."

"You had a cat that ate lima beans?" Mike laughs.

"Bandit was a strange cat," Stuart replies.

"Bandit had personality," Cathy counters with a smile.

"Did Amanda feed her lima beans to the cat, too?" Hank asks just as Amanda returns to clear more items from the table.

"No, she rolled her peas under the hutch when I wasn't looking," Cathy tells him and Hank can't help but laugh.

"Did you really roll your peas under the hutch?" Hank questions his red faced girlfriend.

"What else was I supposed to do with them?" Amanda demands. "Even Bandit wouldn't eat them and I had to do something with those mushy green balls of poison."

"Something tells me I'm going to be hearing a lot of interesting stories this coming week," Hank muses with a chuckle and Amanda makes a noise between a whimper and a groan as she quickly heads back to the kitchen.


	52. Leftovers

**Author's Notes:** I'm afraid I've spoiled the lot of you horribly with my usually quick updates. The fans to my Hellboy story had to wait 4 ½ months for their last update, so no complaining about how long this one took. Thank you LovelyLadyJem, Takerslady, SparrowsVixon, Mythigal, Erisah Mae, dog youkai jane, xdanishxpastryx and Opera-Gypsy for your reviews.

* * *

"Please, I'm begging you."

"No."

"Pretty please with sugar substitute on top?"

"Annie, you are the only person in the world who would put sugar substitute on top of your pretty pleases," Amanda laughs as she scrapes the leftover mashed potatoes into a storage container. "I know diabetics who still put sugar on their pretty pleases."

"Well, just because you think sugar is one of the basic food groups doesn't mean the rest of us do," Annie snaps impatiently while she loads the dishwasher.

"Reading 'How to make Friends and Influence People' again, I see," Amanda snickers as she puts on the lid to the potatoes.

"Come on, Amy, please," Annie begs. "It's just for the weekend."

"Like I have nothing better to do with my weekends now?" Amanda shoots back as the kids return from the dinning room with more food. "Where the heck are we supposed to store all of this food?"

"Mom plugged the old fridge in the garage back in," Annie answers as she makes more room on the counters for the bowls and platter that were brought back.

"I brought one man with me, not a hoard of hungry teenage boys," Amanda states in exasperation while she pulls out more storage containers.

"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate," Annie states, picking up the conversation again after the kids leave for another food run.

"What about Mom and Dad?" Amanda asks as she starts to transfer more food.

"I always ask Mom and Dad," Annie answers quietly, fearing the kids might overhear. "I think they're sick of watching the kids. Amy, I'm serious, please just watch the kids for one weekend."

"What about Mike's mom or brothers and sister?" Amanda questions while trying to judge how big of a container she needs for the nearly untouched green bean casserole.

"Claire isn't willing to take them all at once and his brothers and sister all have families of their own, I can't ask them to take on more kids," Annie tells her while she tries to figure out how to make all of the serving bowls fit in the dishwasher.

"Have you asked them?" Amanda inquires while she stacks the stored food on the counter to later transfer into the fridge.

"Well, no…," Annie hesitantly admits.

"Then ask them, not me," Amanda tells her irritably while she fills yet another container with food.

"But they're so busy…," Annie starts.

"Do you know what will happen if I watch your kids?" Amanda demands.

"I will get to finally take a break," Annie replies as she leans against the counter as if exhausted. "I'll be able to have a conversation with my husband without being interrupted by a child who wants to show me something or tell me something that can't possibly wait another two minutes or having to go break up yet another fight. I'll be able to sleep through the night without a kid waking me up because she had another nightmare or because someone is throwing up. I'll be able to eat my dinner while it's still hot."

"You do realize that if I watch your children I will go to great lengths to make them even harder to handle, don't you?" Amanda warns. "Breakfast will be donuts, lunch will be burgers and fries and dinner will be pizza or whatever takeout food we're in the mood for. I won't serve them anything that remotely looks healthy. I'll let the kids watch whatever they want and stay up as late as they want. Homework and chores will not be done and don't be surprised to see the house looking like a disaster area."

"You're evil, you know that?" Annie growls, scowling at her twin.

"Everyone needs a hobby," Amanda smirks as the kids return with more food. "How's Hank doing in there?"

"He's telling them some story about some guy he knows," Paul answers with a shrug while handing his aunt the platter with the remains of the roast chicken. "Sounded pretty boring to me and Grandpa had this funny look on his face like he wanted to say something but Grandma kept giving him dirty looks like he'll be in trouble if he did say something."

"He has a nice voice," Bethany says as she puts a bowl of rice pilaf on the counter.

"Do you think he'd let me pet him?" Beverly asks while she puts a basket of rolls on the stove since there's no other place to put it. "He looks so soft."

"He's a man, Bev, not an animal," Amanda sternly tells her niece. "You can ask to touch him, but do not treat him like a pet."

"You're aunt is right," Annie tells the girl before turning her attention to the other two. "I want all of you to treat Ambassador McCoy with the same respect you would show any adult. Is that understood?"

"Yes," the three kids grumble more or less in unison.

"Good, now please go finish clearing the table," Annie instructs and watches them go with a sigh. "Please, Amy, you have no idea what it's like having to take care of kids day in and day out. It's exhausting."

"What makes you think I want first hand experience?" Amanda retorts.

"What don't you want first hand experience with?" Cathy asks as she walks into the kitchen with the lasagna pan in her hands.

"Being a parent," Amanda replies as she seals yet another storage container of leftovers. "You know, George Carlin had a routine about leftovers. He said that leftovers give us two good feelings. The first is when you're putting the food away, you think, 'I'm saving food'. Yet, weeks later, when the food has become a new life form and you're throwing it away, you think, 'I'm saving my life'."

"Ok, maybe I did get a little carried away with the cooking," Cathy admits.

"A little?" Amanda snorts.

"Amy, would you mind making the coffee?" Cathy asks, effectively changing the subject.

"Leaded or unleaded?" Amanda inquires as she puts the filled container with the others.

"Unleaded," Cathy answers while she takes a few of the stored leftovers and heads for the garage.

"You know, I could always tell Mom why the tree branch under your bedroom window really broke," Annie quietly threatens the instant the door to the garage closes.

"And I could let Mom know that you knew about me dating Hank and didn't tell her," Amanda shoots back as she pulls the coffee maker out from behind the stacked up food. "The broken branch happened over twelve years ago. My dating Hank is a bit more recent and a bit more important to her life at the moment. Which news do you think she's going to be more upset about?"

"I'm not above begging at this point," Annie warns as she starts the dishwasher.

"The answer is still no," Amanda states while pulling out the coffee beans.

"PLEEEEAAAAASSSEEE!!!" Annie begs, dropping to her knees with her hands clasped at Amanda's feet.

"Now that is just pathetic," Amanda states, taking a step away.

"Mom, why are you on the floor?" Paul asks from the doorway, his sisters behind him as they stare at their mother.

"Annie, what are you doing down there?" Cathy questions as she steps in from the garage.

"Honey, why are you on your knees?" Mike inquires while he steps up behind the kids.

Annie looks around in horror, the color draining from her face as Hank and Stuart stick their heads around the corner to see why there's a traffic jam in the doorway and Amanda's desperately trying not to fall down laughing. Mike quietly chuckles as he shakes his head and then pushes his way past the kids to help his wife to her feet. He carefully pulls his shell shocked wife to her feet and then gently leads her out of the kitchen. Everyone remaining turns their attention to Amanda who is laughing so hard she has to hold onto the counter to stay upright.

"Oh God, of all times not to have a camera on me," she gasps when she's finally able to get control of herself again.

"Care to explain what _that_ was all about?" Cathy demands, her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed over her chest.

"Not without my lawyer present," Amanda snickers.

"You are a lawyer," Paul points out, trying not to laugh along with his aunt.

"Oh, right," Amanda giggles. "In that case, I take the Fifth."

"What's the Fifth?" Beverly asks.

"It's the right for a witness not to give testimony because to answer the question would be incriminating," Amanda answers.

"Huh?" all three kids respond, a look of confusion on all of their faces.

"It simply means that you have the right not to answer a question if the answer would get you into trouble as well," Amanda tells him. "However, this is if you're in court, not when your mother is trying to find out who busted her favorite lamp."

"I didn't do it," Paul immediately says.

"Yeah, right," Bethany scoffs. "That ball just magically flew out of your hand across the room."

"All right you three, that's enough," Cathy sternly tells the kids before Paul can respond. "Go finish clearing the table or there will be no dessert."

The kids immediately deposit the dishes they're carrying onto any available surface and the dash out of the kitchen without another word. As soon as they're out of the room, Cathy turns her green eyed glare on her daughter.

"Why was Annie on her knees?" Cathy demands.

"She was begging me to watch the kids for a weekend," Amanda replies as she measures out the coffee beans into the grinder.

"Why in the world would she ask you to do that?" Cathy asks in surprise.

"I don't know," Amanda answers with a shrug while she puts the lid on the small device. "I think parenthood has short circuited her brain."

"I'll go have a talk with her and see what's going on," Cathy says as she heads towards the door, squeezing past Stuart and Hank.

"So, this is the kitchen," Stuart states with a wave of his hand.

"Getting the tour now I see," Amanda says with a smile for Hank.

"Yes," Hank replies, his heart warming at the sight of that smile. "Your parent's have a lovely home."

"Yeah, but if Dad challenges you to a wood splitting contest, go easy on him," she says as her smile stretches into a grin.

"As you wish," Hank chuckles before turning back to his host. "Shall we continue?"

"Yeah, let me show you the den," Stuart says after casting a warning glance as his daughter.

As soon as they're gone she just sighs and silently wonders how she's going to get through this vacation without being able to touch Hank, much less kiss or hug him. Thinking of anything beyond that is sheer insanity and she immediately turns her attention back to the coffee beans she's supposed to be grinding. However, no matter how hard she tries to concentrate on what she's doing, the memories of that morning and how he touched her makes her body ache for him and she bites her bottom lip as she barely manages to keep a moan from escaping her throat.

* * *

"Aunt Amy, what did your dress look like?" Bethany asks suddenly as the girl finishes her dessert.

"What dress?" Amanda questions after swallowing the piece of chocolate cake that's nearly as good as an orgasm.

"The one you wore to the masquerade ball when you met Hank," Bethany clarifies.

"You said there are pictures," Beverly adds hopefully.

"I don't have any with me," Amanda says, horrified with the idea of having to ever see that dress again.

"I bet there are pictures on line," Paul puts in. "There has to be. A big thing like that with a bunch of famous people is going to attract the paparazzi like bees to honey."

"Perhaps this should wait for another time," Hank puts in, immediately picking up on Amanda's uneasiness. "It's been a long day."

"It won't take that long," Paul insists. "Grandma, can I use your computer please?"

"Yes, of course, dear," Cathy replies and the boy shoots out of his seat and heads down the hall.

The girls are quick to follow him and with several sighs and some rolled eyes, the adults get up out of their seats at a more sedate pace. Hank sees Amanda's face is the cold, hard mask that she uses when she's truly upset and he tries to move closer to her only to find himself blocked by the others as they move through the door and a hallway that wasn't really meant for that many people to be moving through it at once, especially when one of them is rather broad shouldered.

A short time later, they're filing into the den and filling up the room so that everyone except Paul has to stand. The boy is happily typing and clicking away on the computer in search for the pictures of his aunt. The girls stand on either side of their brother to get a good look and are all but jumping up and down with excitement.

"Here we go," Paul announces as he clicks on a link and a moment later a website pops up.

They read the title of the site and Amanda feels like she's going to lose her dinner and it takes a great deal of self control for Hank not to snarl at the machine. The other adults look at the two of them and no questions need to be asked, just by the looks on the couple's faces they know that Hank and Amanda had no idea that the site actually existed. Their stomachs all tied in knots, they turn back to the computer and look over the website.

_**WHERE ARE HANK AND AMANDA NOW?**_

_Have you seen Ambassador Henry 'Hank' McCoy and his girlfriend Amanda Simon? If you have, let us know and we'll let the world know! Send us your pictures and we'll post them here too!_

Underneath these words are a series of thumbnail photographs with the day and place listed above them. In the case of the first set, the title of the event that they're at is also listed. Paul clicks on the first picture and a few seconds later a picture of Amanda in that God awful dress being carried by Hank fills the screen.

"You have a rather self satisfied look on your face there, Hank," Stuart states, trying not to sound upset and only partially succeeding.

"I was," Hank happily replies. "I was finally going to get an answer to a question that had been bothering me for a few weeks."

"Which was?" Stuart prompts.

"Who's Brian?" Hank says as he fights the grin trying to get out and everyone turns towards Amanda who suddenly has an interest in her nails.

"Amy, didn't you tell me that Brian had been calling you and pretending to be Hank?" Cathy asks.

"Yup," Amanda answers, still studying her nails and turning a brilliant shade of red.

"Were any of those phone calls from Brian?" Cathy questions.

"Nope," Amanda replies as her blush travels down her neck and past the collar of her sweater.

"Wait a minute, what's this about Brian and phone calls and pretending to be Hank?" Mike inquires, completely confused.

"The day after I won Serena's case, I got a call from someone claiming to be Hank," Amanda explains, her nails still the most fascinating things in the world. "I thought it was Brian playing another one of his practical jokes. In fact, he called several times and I hung up on him each and every time."

"So, who was it really that was making these calls?" Mike asks, a smile creeping across his face since he's fairly sure he knows the answer.

"That would have been me," Hank chimes in, a grin firmly planted on his face.

"You hung up on the US Ambassador to the United Nations?" Mike laughs as the others try to hide their snickers.

"Six times to be exact," Amanda adds and as soon as the others digest this news, the laughter starts in earnest.

"Oh, how I wish I could have been there when you found out who you really had been hanging up on," Annie gasps when she finally regains control of herself and Amanda just glares at her twin.

"Like you'd be able to do anything but stand there like a deer caught in the headlights," Amanda shoots back.

"All right you two, that's enough," Cathy interrupts before any verbal sparring can really get going.

"Another great story to tell your kids someday," Mike snickers and all of the blood drains out of Amanda's face as she lets out a strangled squeak.

"I don't think we're quite at that stage of our relationship to be having that conversation," Hank puts in as he reaches behind Stuart to put a steadying hand under Amanda's elbow when she starts to wobble. "Maybe someday we will, but not now."

Stuart is completely aware of where Hank's hand is and gives his daughter a warning look as she reaches over to grasp Hank's forearm with the hand of the supported arm. Stuart opens his mouth, but stops before so much as a sound can come out by an elbow being jabbed into his ribs. He turns and sees Cathy glaring at him and giving him a small shake of her head. He wants to protest, but by the narrowing of her eyes he knows he'll be in a world of trouble if he does, so with a snort of disgust, he turns his attention back to the computer.

"Ok, we've seen the dress; can we go back and finish dessert now?" Stuart grumbles.

"But there are other pictures," Bethany protests as Paul goes back to the main page.

"Yeah, these were taken a week after the first ones," Paul says as he clicks on one of the thumbnails and a picture of Amanda and Hank dancing on their first date fills the screen a moment later.

"Nice dress, Amy," Mike says as everyone gets an eye full of Amanda's long legs.

"Thanks," Amanda replies as Mike turns to look at his wife.

"Why don't you wear a dress like that?" Mike asks.

"Why don't you take me out to dinner and dancing?" Annie shoots back.

"Score one for Mom," Paul mutters under his breath.

"I think we've seen enough pictures for tonight," Annie states. "It's time for you three to get ready for bed."

"Aw, but Mom, there are more pictures to see," Beverly whines.

"Which you can see tomorrow," Annie counters as Paul brings up yet another picture.

"What happened to your face, Aunt Amy?" the boy asks as he stares at the slightly blurry picture of Hank and Amy on their second date, drawing everyone's attention back to the computer monitor.

"Johnny Storm is a dead man," Amanda growls, her eyes narrowed as Hank's hand slips down her arm to her hand and she gladly laces her fingers through his.

"I am definitely going to need to pay a visit to the Baxter building when we get back to New York and have a serious talk with that young man," Hank agrees, not sounding very happy.

"Are you talking about the Human Torch?" Paul asks, his eyes wide with wonder.

"The one and the same," Hank confirms, gazing down at the boy with an amused look.

"You guys had dinner with the Human Torch?" Paul inquires, completely in awe.

"No, he was simply eating at the same restaurant that we were," Amanda replies, sounding very displeased. "I want to find the person who thought putting cameras into phones was a good idea and sue him or her."

"It wouldn't be so bad if he hadn't gotten the side of your face that got hit with the Frisbee," Hank tells her as he gently squeezes her fingers.

"Even if he had gotten the other side of my face, I still looked a mess that night," she grumbles, still scowling at the screen.

"Not to me you didn't," he quietly assures her and she turns her disbelieving gaze towards him only to be caught by the warmth in his eyes as he returns her gaze.

"Ok, now this is just getting gross," Paul says in disgust as he turns back towards the computer and goes back to the main page, scrolling down to see more thumbnails while Amanda and Hank smile at the back of the boy's head.

"Hey, Mom," Beverly says while staring intently at the monitor.

"Yes, dear," Annie responds.

"What does FOH mean?" the girl asks.

* * *

The George Carlin routine is called Icebox Man and is very funny. 


	53. Site Down

**Author's Notes**: Thank you LovelyLadyJem, Opera-Gypsy, SparrowsVixon, Maraluch, dog youkai jane, Mythigal, Erisah Mae, Takerslady and theNightEnchantress for your reviews.

* * *

"WHAT!?" all of the adults nearly yell, startling the kids.

"Where does it say FOH?" Cathy questions in a shaky voice, the first to actually recover.

"Right here," Beverly answers, pointing to the lower corner of the screen closest to her. "It's a bit hard to read, but it's there."

All of the adults crowd closer to the desk that the monitor is sitting on and peer down at the spot that Beverly indicates. Sure enough, in lettering that's only slightly darker than the background are the letters 'FOH' on top of a closed fist and Amanda's hand instinctively tightens around Hank's. Hank pulls her into his arms as the others continue to stare at the screen and she buries her face into the fur on his neck, finding comfort in his warmth and scent.

"So what does it mean?" Beverly asks, a bit freaked out by the way all of the grown ups are acting.

"You three, bed, now," Annie orders as she reaches for her husband and he pulls her into the safety of his arms.

"But…," Paul starts to object.

"You heard your mother, move it, now," Mike interrupts, never taking his eyes off of the screen.

There's some minor grumbling as the kids squeeze their way out of the crowded room, but other than that, they say nothing else.

"Why would they do this?" Annie whispers, holding onto Mike as if her life depended on it.

"Hank's probably the most high profile mutant in the world," Amanda replies without moving from her spot. "What other reason do they need?"

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this," he softly tells her as he holds her closer despite the sidelong looks her father is giving them.

"The Friends of Humanity are a sick and twisted lot that need to realize that mutants were created by the good Lord, just like non-mutants," Cathy states vehemently as she leans against Stuart for comfort and he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"No good can come of this site," Hank says quietly while he rubs Amanda's back.

"Can't you sue them?" Mike asks, looking over at Amanda. "Get them to close down or something?"

"What would I sue them for?" Amanda counters, finally raising her head from Hank's shoulder.

"Invasion of privacy," Mike suggests.

Amanda reluctantly steps out of Hank's embrace, goes over to the computer and takes a hold of the mouse. She quickly scans through the thumbnail photographs, inwardly cringing when she sees the ones from the holiday gala and silently praying that her parents don't notice. She makes sure that she didn't miss any and that there aren't any other pages to the site before sighing and stepping back.

"All of the pictures are from public venues," Amanda states. "There's no case for invasion of privacy. Also, since they're getting their pictures from anyone who happens to have a camera on him or her, it's not like they have anyone following us and spying on us. If it weren't for the Friends of Humanity logo, this could be considered an innocent, if over zealous and down right creepy, fan site. What they're doing is disgusting and reprehensible, but perfectly legal. Besides, even if I could get the person running this site to shut it down, one of the other members could just as easily start another one."

"I would like nothing more than to see the mother board fried on their computer," Hank grumbles and everyone else goes still at his words.

"It's getting late," Cathy states out of the blue several silent seconds later. "I have a ton of dishes that I need to wash, so if you'll excuse me. Annie, Amy, would you please help me?"

With that, the matriarch of the family leaves with her daughters following behind without a word and Hank watches them curiously, confused by their strange behavior.

"I better go make sure the kids are getting ready for bed and not having another pillow fight," Mike says just before he exits the room.

"Well, that just leaves us, Hank," Stuart says as he goes to turn off the computer. "Care for a game of chess."

"I would love to," Hank replies absently, still perplexed about the others odd behavior.

"Great, I haven't had a good game in ages," Stuart happily says as he leads Hank out of the den, thought the cheerfulness seems a bit strained.

Hank follows the man, mulling over the other's odd behavior and quietly wondering what it was about his comment that made them react so.

* * *

"Annie…," Amanda starts quietly.

"No, absolutely, not!" Annie interrupts with a snarl.

"Why not?" Amanda demands, barely noticing when her mother puts a dishtowel into her hand.

"Because he can't do it," Annie snaps as she turns to start scrapping some of the leftover food into the bucket for the compost pile and the rest into the garbage.

"Can't or you won't let him?" Amanda questions as starts to dry the first of the hand washed dishes.

"It's not going to happen, so stop asking," Annie growls, barely managing to put a cleaned off plate into a pile to be washed without breaking it.

"Annie, if this was just some ordinary fan that went a bit over the top, then I wouldn't be asking," Amanda tells her. "But the Friends of Humanity are dangerous people and they're targeting Hank."

"What do you care?" Annie snarls. "You'll probably just end up dumping him like you've done with all of your other boyfriends."

"Hank isn't like those guys and I've had good reasons for dumping every single one of those jerks," Amy shoots back.

"Such as?" Annie questions, her eyes narrowed at her sister.

"Well, let's see," Amanda replies as she starts to tick of the reasons on her fingers. "Jeff was sleeping with my roommate; Chris was a pathological liar who happened to be already married, something he didn't bother telling me when he asked me out; Dennis was sent to jail for embezzlement; Keith dumped me and Scott wanted me to quit my job and pop out babies like I was some type of walking incubator. And those are just the ones that made it past the second date. Unlike any of those guys, Hank has treated me with nothing buy kindness and respect."

"Ok, so he's not like the other guys," Annie grumbles as she starts to put away the cleaned and dried dishes. "But the answer is still no."

"Why?" Amanda asks.

"Because he can't do it," Annie answers angrily.

"And we're back to is it because he really can't do it or because you won't let him," Amanda reminds her.

"I don't know if he can and I'm not about to let him try," Annie shoots back irritably.

"Why not?" Amanda demands in a hiss. "How's he supposed to be able to control his abilities if you won't let him see what he can do?"

"What if he starts going around and messing around with things he shouldn't?" Annie quietly questions. "What if he starts causing trouble? What if…?"

"What if you give the kid a chance," Amanda butts in. "You've been raising him to be a responsible person. Trust him to make the right decisions. If you don't let him, he'll never forgive you and in the end he'll be the opposite of what you want just to spite you."

"What gives you the right to start giving parenting advice?" Annie snaps.

"Amy's right, Annie," Cathy quietly tells her daughter. "You need to learn to trust Paul to make the right decisions on his own."

"You're siding with her?" Annie asks, completely stunned.

"This isn't about taking sides, Annie," Cathy calmly replies. "It's about what's doing what's right. If the FOH are targeting Hank, than the site needs to come down and their computer needs to be taken out of commission."

"You're asking for a pretty big favor," Annie says with a calculating look on her face. "What do I get in return?"

"It seems I'm asking the favor more of Paul than I am of you," Amy responds, eyeing her sister.

"You have to go through me to get to him," Annie points out.

"Fine, what do you want?" Amanda asks, dreading that she already knows the answer.

"Baby sit the kids for a weekend," Annie answers immediately. "And you will feed them healthy food and you will make them do their choirs and their homework."

"That's asking a bit much," Amanda grumbles, scowling at her twin.

"Take it or leave it, but that's the deal," Annie responds with a challenging look in her eye.

"Fine, I'll do all of that on the condition that if any more of these sites come up Paul will take them down immediately," Amanda counters. "Deal?"

"Deal," Annie agrees with a nod and the tension that had been building up in the room immediately drains away.

"When can he do it?" Amanda inquires as she goes back to drying the dishes.

"Sometime when Hank's not around," Annie tells her.

"Why?" Amanda questions.

"Because I don't want him to know," Annie replies.

"Why not?" Amanda inquires.

"Because I don't want Hank to know," Annie answers. "I don't want anybody outside of this family to know."

"But…," Amanda starts, turning away from the dishes that need to be dried again.

"No," Annie firmly interrupts. "I'm trying to protect my child, please respect that."

"As you wish," Amanda replies with a shrug. "I was going to show Hank the barn and the gardens tomorrow after breakfast. Would that work?"

"Yeah, that should be fine and it should give him enough time to get the job done too," Annie responds with a nod.

"If you two are through negotiating my grandson's future, could you please get back to helping me with the dishes?" Cathy asks irritably as she rinses off another plate and hands it dripping to Amanda since the drying rack is full.

Without another word, Amanda and Annie go back to the tasks at hand and they work on in silence, each lost in her own thoughts.

* * *

As he sips his tea, he looks out the window at another cold, dreary morning and scowls at the inclement weather. It's raining again, but that's not unusual weather for Northern California for this time of the year. Despite the fact that regular climate patterns help keep the area green and help keep the redwood trees alive to shield the old house out of view of casual observers, the cold and wet more often than not remind him that he's no longer the young man that he once was.

He feels his seat gently vibrate and off in the distance he can he hear the whine of a power tool in use and he smiles to himself. How fortuitous it was to find this old house with the large basement and while the real estate agent went on about the view and the redwoods surrounding the property, never did the woman suspect that there were hidden chambers behind the walls of the basement. Judging from the age of the house and its relative seclusion while still being fairly close to San Francisco, he figures the rooms must have been used during the prohibition era nearly a century ago.

From the look of the drains in the floors and the plumbing into those rooms, he figures they probably were making the illegal alcohol as well as storing it before smuggling it out into the city. The pounding of a hammer joins the power tool's song and it's music to his ears as his smile turns into a rather evil smirk. Soon, very soon, the basement will have a new purpose and that makes his aching joints hurt just a little bit less.

Thanks to that giant blue oaf, he spent many long, miserable months living among the Sapiens, an experience he doesn't care to repeat any time soon. Being among them only confirmed his belief that their time on this planet has come and gone and it's now time for a new regime to reign supreme. He watched as they beat each other up, killing without remorse more often than not and it only validated his belief that if these beings are going to wipe themselves out why shouldn't he and his kind help them along the way.

But before that can happen, he must repay the one who took away his glory at Alcatraz and his gaze moves over to the wall where the clipped out pictures of his target hang. How delicious it will be when he has his revenge on the Beast who laid him so low and the fact that it will be his Sapien girlfriend that will be his undoing will make it even sweeter. If the two of them had any idea what was in store for them, they wouldn't be making such spectacles of themselves.

He eyes the latest photographs that he's added to his collection and he has to chuckle. He must admit the dress she wore to the President's little party is quite the eye catcher and if the look on McCoy's face is anything to go by, she probably didn't sleep alone that night. While the thought of one of his kind sleeping with such a lesser being turns his stomach, the knowledge that McCoy has become so attached to her will make him even easier to manipulate and he can feel his smile deepen.

The sound of yelling and cursing invade his pleasant thoughts and with a sigh, he wearily gets up from his seat to see what the calamity is now, leaving his cold tea on the desk. He follows the sound of raised voices to the room furthest from his office and he sighs. He stops at the doorway of the computer room, knowing that just his presence in that room is dangerous to the equipment therein.

"What is the problem now, Mother?" he asks a bit irritably.

"The server seems to be down," the young woman answers crossly while she snaps her gum and furiously types away at the keyboard. "I was about to update the website when suddenly it's gone. All that hard work, POOF, gone!"

"What can you do to fix it?" he questions, relieved that it's someone else's fault that there's a glitch in his plans.

"Nothing 'til the server comes back up," she replies as she pushes her lime green hair out her face and spins her seat around to face him. "Got some new news and pics on McCoy and I was about to put it up."

"What news?" he inquires. "I was unaware that he had done anything news worthy."

"Nothin' you'd find in a real newspaper, just some local rag," she tells him as she chews on her gum. "Got some pics of him and the girlfriend drivin' through her hometown. Looks like she's takin' him home to meet Mommy and Daddy."

"My goodness, that is juicy information," he purrs and any thoughts of gloomy weather or painful joints are driven from his mind.

"I could print the pictures up for you while I wait for the server to come up, but they're a bit fuzzy," she says and he cocks an eyebrow at her. "Fuzzier than they should be."

"That won't be necessary, thank you," he replies as he turns to go. "My wall is becoming quite full as it is. I'll leave you to your work."

He gets about half way down the hallway before the sound of something exploding and screaming comes from the computer room. He spins around and the sight of black smoke coming out of the room meets his eyes and the stench of burnt plastic and metal reaches his nose a second later. Without a second thought, he takes a deep breath and runs into the room as the smoke detector starts to wail.

The room is filled with black smoke and he bends over to get underneath it, though it doesn't really help. The smoke is making his eyes burn and water and his lungs are starting to demand air, so he blindly makes his way over to the window and opens it, drawing in a breath of the cold wet air as soon as he can. He turns back around and he can hear someone else moving around in there with him.

"Mother?" he calls.

"No," a muffled male voice calls back.

"Pyro, put out the fire," Magnito instructs, the smoke starting to sting the lining of his lungs.

"I already have," Pyro replies with a cough. "But the smoke is so thick I can't see a thing."

"Just a moment," Magnito says as he starts to cough as well.

He sticks his face out the window, actually thankful that they don't have screens up yet, to get another breath of fresh air and then feels for anything metal. The now overturned desk chair that Mother had been sitting on is what he finds first and he quickly rips the thing apart to make the blades of a fan and then quickly starts to spin them, forcing the smoke towards the open window. Soon, the smoke gets to be too much for the older man and he starts to cough in earnest as his lungs protest the smoke being in them.

Despite the pain and burning of his lungs, he maintains the fan blowing the acrid air out of the room and barely notices when someone starts to lead him out of the room. He can barely see as tears stream down his face, trying to clear the smoke particles out of his eyes. It's not until someone gently pushes him into a chair does he realize that he's now in the dining room.

"Where are Mother and Pyro?" Magnito asks when he's finally able.

"Pyro's taking her to the hospital," one of Magnito's followers tells him as she pushes a glass of water into his hands. "Drink this. It'll help get the smoke out of your throat."

"What happened?" he inquires after drinking some of the cooling liquid.

"I'm not entirely sure yet, but it looks like the computer blew up," she answers as she takes a wet cloth and starts wiping the soot off of his face. "There were pieces of glass and plastic imbedded in Mother's face and shoulder. It looks like she had her back to the computer so it only got the side of her face, but it still looks nasty. I know you don't like the idea of us going to the hospital, but Mother was unconscious and it's better to be safe than sorry."

"I don't like the idea of her being in the hands of Sapiens," he grumbles.

"Pyro will stay with her and warn us if anyone starts asking questions," she replies.

"I want everything to be in order in the basement if the authorities decide to come nosing around," he instructs as he gets to his feet and immediately wobbles.

"Yes, sir," she says as she puts a steadying hand under his elbow. "I'll see to it. You should go get cleaned up and then get some rest. You breathed in quite a bit of smoke and I don't want to have to take you to the hospital for smoke inhalation."

"That, my dear, sounds like a very good idea," he agrees as he carefully makes his way out of the room.

* * *

Annie nervously watches over her son as he sits in front of his grandmother's computer completely motionless and he stares at the monitor with completely black eyes. The monitor shows nothing but zeros and ones rapidly scrolling down the screen that can be seen reflected in the boy's eyes. Amanda's laptop sits on the desk next to the monitor with the FOH page brought up to monitor Paul's progress.

"The site's down," Mike announces as he stares at the laptop. "Now all he has to do is find the computer it came from and shut it down."

Annie simply nods that she's heard him as she continues to stare at her first born, barely breathing as her heart hammers against her ribs. The minutes drag on, seeming to take hours to her and more than once she wants to grab him and snap him out of his trance. Suddenly, Paul slumps forward onto the keyboard and she rushes forward to pull him into her arms.

"PAUL!" she shouts, nearly panicking as she cradles her child in her arms.

"Yeah, I'm here, you don't have to shout," Paul weakly grumbles as he blinks a few times and looks up at his mother with bright green eyes.

"Did you do it?" she hesitantly asks.

"Yeah," Paul replies softly with a small self satisfied smile on his face. "No one's going to be using that computer again. Though, I think I over did it."

Before either of his parents can comment on his statement, he closes his eyes and goes limp in his mother's arms.

"Paul!" Annie calls, shaking the boy and on the verge of tears.

"It's alright, honey," Mike says reassuringly. "He's just passed out. He's never stretched himself so far before, so it's not too surprising. I'll take him upstairs so he can get some rest."

Mike gently takes his son into his arms and carries him out of the room while she sits down in the now vacated chair before dropping her face in her hands and having a good tension releasing cry.


	54. Another Morning

**Author's Notes:** Sorry about the delay. Kids are out of school for the summer and a muse that has suddenly become Transformers obsessed have slowed everything down. Thank you LovelyLadyJem, SparrowsVixon, Takerslady, Erisah Mae, theNightEnchantress, Mythigal and MissBlackVelvet for your reviews.

* * *

"So, how did things go with Dad last night?" Amanda asks as they step out into the cold morning air.

"Fairly well," Hank answers as he takes her hand in his. "He is a persistent man. He asked me questions from my upbringing to my religious affiliation. I was half expecting him to ask me if I wore boxers or briefs. Towards the end I was half hoping your mother would show up."

"What in the world for?" she inquires as she leads him towards the barn.

"Well, if the well placed elbow to the ribs and the not so subtle kicks to the shins under the table were any indication, I believe your mother was trying to keep your father from asking any inappropriate questions," he chuckles. "You should have heard them as they were getting ready for bed."

"You were eavesdropping on my parents?" she questions in shock.

"It's not like I had much of a choice in the matter," he tells her. "They weren't exactly keeping their voices down and my hearing is rather sensitive."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you were intentionally listening in to their conversation," she responds abashedly.

"Of course not, my dear," he assures her with a gentle squeeze of her hand. "As it was, I was trying to ignore them until our names came up. To that, I'm afraid I must confess that I am guilty of not trying to tune them out after that."

"Bad boy," she teases with an ill hidden smile.

"I could suggest some sort of appropriate punishment," he purrs in her ear and she barely suppresses a groan as a shiver runs down her spine. "But that might have to wait until we get back to New York."

"This trip is going to kill me," she moans and he chuckles.

"But as I was saying, your parents are of slightly differing opinions of what is and isn't proper," he continues while they wind their way through the winter dead vegetable garden. "Your father would rather us not be anywhere near each other while your mother sees no problem with hand holding and a comforting hug. Anything else is to be discouraged."

"I'm surprised Dad didn't have a fit over the hand holding thing," she muses. "You should have seen what lengths he went through to keep Mike and Annie apart before they were married."

"Oh, he was about to," he tells her, a smile tugging at his lips at the memory. "But your mother promised him many long, cold, lonely nights on the lumpy couch if he messes this up for you. It seems she believes that I'm your last chance at finding marital bliss."

"Why do people think I can only be happy if I'm married?" she huffs. "Do I have no value as a human being unless I've got a ring on my finger and a piece of paper stating that I'm legally bonded to another person? Am I worthless unless I belong to someone?"

"Of course not, my dear," he assures her as he forces her to stop and look at him. "Your mother has found happiness with her marriage and she simply wishes the same for you."

"She wants grandbabies," she grumbles. "She won't stop until I give her more grandchildren to play with. The woman is insane."

"Maybe, but it's because of her that we are out here alone," he points out as he strokes the side of her face with his finger tips and no sooner is the last word out of his mouth then they can hear the back door slam shut.

"You spoke too soon," she replies with a smirk as the sound of running footsteps reaches them.

"Aunt Amy, wait up!" Bethany calls and the two adults turn to see the twins rushing towards them, hastily pulling their coats on.

"We want to come too!" Beverly says as they get closer.

"Can we? Please?" Bethany begs.

"I'm just showing Hank around the property," Amanda tells them.

"We know, but we want to come too," Beverly replies. "So can we? Please?"

"I'll leave that up to Hank," Amanda says as she and the girls turn to him.

"I would be delighted to have the company of a couple of fairy godmothers," Hank states and the girls beam at him.

"Thanks, but we're not fairy godmothers right now," Bethany says.

"Mom said she needed to clean our dresses or we won't be able to wear them to midnight mass tomorrow night," Beverly adds.

"You are coming tomorrow night, aren't you?" Bethany asks.

"Aunt Amy's friend didn't come to Easter services when he visited and Grandpa didn't like that," Beverly adds. "He didn't think very much of him because of it."

"Aunt Amy's friend is a Buddhist," Amanda grumbles.

"But you are coming aren't you?" Bethany repeats.

"Well…I don't know," he hesitantly replies.

"But you must come," Beverly insists as she grabs the sleeve of Hank's coat. "Aunt Amy is going to sing."

"What!?" Amanda nearly yells. "I didn't agree to sing this year."

"But you sing every year, so Grandma just told them that you would," Bethany tells her and Amanda groans.

"You never told me you could sing," he says, delighted by this new surprise.

"I'm not very good," Amanda mumbles, her face turning an incredible shade of pink.

"Yes, you are," Beverly insists.

"You're better than Mom," Bethany says in a stage whisper.

"Crows being strangled sound better than Mom," Beverly mutters and Hank barely bites back his laughter.

"Oh, no," Amanda suddenly groans.

"What's the matter?" he asks in concern.

"If I'm singing at church tomorrow night than that means Father Clancy will be coming to dinner tonight to talk to me about what song I'm going to do and when it'll happen during the service," Amanda moans.

"And Father Clancy doesn't particularly like mutants," he states, trying to sound casual about it, though the sadness in his voice is quite evident.

"No, that's not it," Amanda replies, still sounding upset. "Mom and Dad would never go to a church that didn't teach tolerance. I'm more worried about the conversation my mother will have with him of what days the church will be available, say, next spring for a nice little ceremony."

"What type of ceremony?" he questions, a bit perplexed.

"Guess," Amanda challenges.

"Oh…OH!" he gasps as comprehension dawns on his face and then he chuckles. "Do you really think your mother would start planning our wedding even though we've dating less than two months?"

"You just wait," she warns pokes a finger into his chest. "My dad's a pussy cat compared to my mother on a mission and she's determined to see me hitched and having babies as soon as possible."

"Speaking of cats, does anyone know what happened to Hairy?" Beverly suddenly asks.

"Nothing as far as I know," Amanda answers.

"Who's Hairy?" he inquires.

"One of my parent's cats," Amanda explains. "He's a big, fluffy gray thing."

"Then he may have been in my bed this morning," he tells them. "There was also an orange and black long haired cat and a brown tabby."

"Sounds like you got Pandora and Scooter too," Amanda chuckles.

"Not fair," Beverly pouts. "I like it when the kitties get in bed with me."

"I don't," Bethany grumbles. "I always wake up with a tale in my face."

"I wasn't aware that you're parents even had cats," he states, looking at Amanda.

"You know, I was so worried about you meeting my parents that I forgot to warn you about the cats," she says. "Sorry about that. Though I'm surprised they got into bed with you. They usually avoid strangers."

"I must say it was rather startling to find three furry bodies in bed with me," he admits. "But no harm was done. I'm just surprised that I didn't feel them jump up onto the bed with me."

"You must have been really worn out from that long drive yesterday," Amanda suggests with a barely contained smile.

"Yes, I'm sure that was it," he responds, his eyes dancing with merriment.

"Can we go look at the chickens now?" Beverly nearly whines. "It's cold out here."

"Who wants to see a bunch of dumb old chickens," Bethany grumbles. "Let's show him the garden."

"We're standing in the middle of the gardens," Beverly points out, waving her hand towards the raised beds. "Everything's dead."

"It'll grow back," Bethany insists.

"Yeah, in the spring," Beverly retorts.

"If you two are just going to fight, you can both go back inside," Amanda warns.

"Sorry," both girls mumble.

"Good," Amanda says with a nod before taking Hank's hand and then turns to continue their journey towards the barn only to be stopped by little girl giggling. "What's so funny?"

"You're holding hands," Bethany snickers.

"We most certainly are," Hank says just before he kisses the back of the hand he's holding.

Amanda just smiles at him and shakes her head before sighing and then leading them all towards the barn.

"So, you are coming tomorrow night aren't you?" Beverly questions as they reach the barn.

"My dear, I wouldn't miss it for the world," he answers with a big grin and all Amanda can do is whimper.

* * *

"I thought I'd find you in here," Cathy says as she steps into the den and steps up to the desk. "Here, I made you some tea."

"Thanks," Annie sniffs, hastily wiping the tears from her face before taking the offered mug.

"Did it work?" Cathy asks as she goes to shut the den door.

"Yes, and I'm never letting him do that again," Annie vehemently states as another tear rolls down her face. "He passed out, Mom! He looked at me, said he over did it and then he passed out!"

"He doesn't know his own strength yet," Cathy replies as she settles down on an overstuffed chair. "He'll learn over time. It's not like you learned to control your abilities over night. As for never letting do it again, I'm afraid that unless you plan on following him around every day for the rest of his life, he's going to do it again. He now knows that he can do it and he's going to want to see what else he can do."

"I knew I shouldn't have let Amy talk me into this," Annie grumbles.

"You know your sister, if you hadn't agreed to it, she would have asked him directly," Cathy points out. "At least this way you and Mike were here to take care of things if anything went wrong."

"But he passed out, Mom!" Annie nearly yells.

"Please keep your voice down," Cathy gently admonishes her daughter. "You did the same thing when you first started using your powers and you were older than he is. He's going to be very powerful someday so now it is up to you to guide him, not to control him. If you try to control him, he will become what you fear the most."

"I still hate this," Annie grumbles. "I shouldn't have let Amy talk me into this."

"As I recall she didn't talk you into it, she had to bribe you into it," Cathy shoots back. "I'm not particularly happy that you 'sold' my grandson's services so you could get a weekend off. Is that how you got her to baby sit last time? By selling his services? That was when Amy needed the memory from that digital camcorder wasn't it?"

"Well…um…," Annie stammers.

"I thought so," Cathy sighs. "Really, Annie, is it worth a few hours of pleasure of the absolute misery she puts you through in the end?"

"But those few hours help me relax enough where I can be a mother again and not a screaming shrew," Annie answers.

"Annie, how do you think it would look to anyone else if they knew you were selling your son's abilities so you could get some time off?" Cathy asks.

"Pretty horrible," Annie finally admits after thinking about it for a minute. "So I should just offer him up as the sacrificial lamb whenever she wants something?"

"How often has she asked for his help?" Cathy questions.

"Twice," Annie replies quietly.

"How long ago did we even find out that he was developing these powers?" Cathy inquires.

"Shortly after his eighth birthday," Annie mumbles, staring down into her tea.

"So, in nearly a year and a half, she's asked for his help only twice and they weren't for frivolous things either," Cathy says, giving her daughter a familiar cold, hard stare. "We're family, Annie. We do things for each other because of it; we don't use each other like you've done to your sister."

"But, Mom…," Annie starts to whine in an all too familiar tone.

"Don't 'but, Mom' me, young lady," Cathy says sternly. "I never want to hear that you've been selling my grandchildren's abilities again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Annie growls. "So I should just let her use Paul's abilities whenever she wants?"

"You just let her know she owes you and then you call in the favor later," Cathy calmly replies. "You don't demand payment up front."

"Fine," Annie grumbles and then abruptly gets up from her seat. "I'm going to go check on Paul."

Annie all but storms out of the room and Cathy just sighs and shakes her head before heading back to the kitchen.

* * *

"Are Annie and Paul not joining us for lunch?" Hank asks, noting the two empty seats.

"They're not feeling well, so they're both lying down right now," Mike answers as he helps himself to a sandwich.

"I certainly hope they're alright," Hank states in concern. "They seemed fine at breakfast. Would you like me to look in on them?"

"No, that's ok, they just need a bit of rest, but thanks for offering," Mike replies and then takes a bite of his food, effectively ending the conversation.

Hank falls silent as he quietly wonders what could be wrong with the boy and his mother, both who had appeared in perfect health earlier that morning. So consumed with his own thoughts, he doesn't notice Amanda's sudden lack of appetite or the slightly worried expressions on Mike and Cathy's face. It barely even registers that the twins are the only ones talking as they prattle on about all the things that they showed Hank that morning, their words barely even registering in his brain. But if he was to pay attention, he would hear the obvious nervousness in their voices.


	55. Out of Bed

**Author's Notes:** Well, what do you know? I managed to finish this chapter before my trip to St. Louis where I will spend about a week with my in-laws. Pity me. As always, thanks to SparrowsVixon, KansReader, Takerslady, Mythigal, LovelyLadyJem, dog youkai jane, Opera-Gypsy, theNightEnchantress, K.R.M. and Kana090 for your reviews.

* * *

"Aunt Amy?" a quiet voice calls from the door.

"Hey, kiddo, how are you feeling?" Amanda asks upon turning and seeing Paul standing in her bedroom doorway.

"Better now that I've escaped Mom," he tells her, edging into her room.

"Let me guess, she's being her overprotective self again," she chuckles as she waves him the rest of the way.

"She's driving me crazy," he grumbles as he mostly shuts the door behind him. "She was trying to feed me my lunch like my arms were broken or something."

"She's just worried about you," she tells him as she goes back to her unpacking. "You're her son and she's the worrying type."

"So I over did it a bit," he mutters as he plops down onto her bed. "It's not like she's never over done it before."

"True," she agrees while she carefully pulls her sweaters from the bag. "And you should have seen the way your grandmother doted over her when she did. Of course she loved it while it seems to be driving you buggy."

"You can say that again," he moans as he flops back onto her bed and stares at the ceiling.

"Thank you for doing whatever it is that you did," she quietly says as she sits on the bed next to him. "It means a lot to me."

"What about Hank?" he asks, looking over at her.

"He doesn't know," she answers. "Your mother doesn't want him to."

"Why not?" he questions, propping himself up onto his elbows. "It's not like he's going to freak out if he knew."

"It's your mother's prerogative not to tell him and I will not fight her over this," she replies, shaking her head.

"It's her what?" he inquires, confused by the term.

"It means it's her special right to tell whomever she wants about your abilities," she tells him.

"Then I guess it's my prerogawhatsit to let him know," he says with a sly look on his face.

"It's prerogative and don't you dare," she warns.

"Why not?" he demands, sitting up to stare at her. "Why shouldn't I tell him?"

"Well, for one, just because you tell him doesn't mean he'll do anything about it," she answers. "For another, your mother will throw a huge hissy fit."

"And then she'll blame you and be mad at you again," he grumbles.

"Oh please," she scoffs. "Call me when your mother isn't mad at me for something. I'm just not interested in Hank witnessing your mother at her finest. Remember what happens when she really loses it."

"Yeah, I know, but that leaves me wondering about something," he says.

"What's that?" she asks.

"Why is she hiding her eyes from Hank?" he inquires. "Is she afraid that he'll drag her off to be an X-Man?"

"I'm not sure what your mother's reasoning is for hiding what she is, but I can tell you that she'd never be accepted as an X-Man," she answers.

"Why's that?" he questions. "I'd think having a black panther on their side would be a good thing."

"What does your mother have to do before she changes into a black panther?" she inquires.

"Oh, right," he says with an embarrassed grin.

"Yeah," she chuckles. "It'd be a bit distracting to have one their team mates go running off to hide behind a bush so she can strip off all of her clothes and jewelry before transforming."

"Considering Mom won't come out of the bathroom after a shower until she's completely dressed, I have a hard time imagining her stripping behind a bush," he snickers.

"Exactly," she agrees with a smile. "Just be patient, I'm sure someday soon you're mom will realize that the best place for you is Xavier's."

"But I want to go now!" he nearly whines. "Mom went, why can't I?"

"You're mom was fourteen when she went and she was only there for a couple of years," she tells him. "As soon as they were sure she could control her powers, she came home. Just give your mom a bit more time to get used to the idea. I'm sure after today's exhibition of your powers; she might be a bit more willing to seriously consider it."

"I hope so," he grumbles. "I'm tired of being home schooled. I don't get to spend any time with kids my own age except for when we go to church."

"Most of the students at Xavier's are teenagers," she warns. "You might find yourself just as lonely and to add to it, you won't be at home any more."

"I guess you're right," he sighs, disheartened.

"I didn't mean to burst your bubble, but I didn't want you getting your hopes up just because Hank's here," she says as she gets up and starts pulling more clothes out of her bags.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks after watching for a minute.

"Sure," she answers.

"You really like Hank, don't you?" he questions, rolling over onto his stomach.

"Of course I like Hank," she laughs. "I'm not about to date a guy I can't stand."

"Are you going to marry Hank?" he inquires and she stops dead, her folded socks sitting in her hands just waiting to be placed in the open drawer beneath them.

"Um…uh…it's a little early to be asking that," she stammers, her cheeks heating up. "We've only known each other for a couple of months."

"So?" he counters. "Dad said that he knew from the moment he met Mom that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her."

"It doesn't happen that way for everybody," she tells him as she finally puts her socks away. "Your grandparents were friends for a very long time before they started to even date. Let's give this relationship a little time before we start sending out the wedding invitations, ok?"

"Ok," he chuckles and the bedroom door silently swings open.

"There you are," Annie says in exasperation. "What are you doing in here?"

"He's keeping me company," Amanda tells her as she picks up her now empty suitcase and tosses it in the closet.

"You dragged him out of bed so he could keep you company?" Annie demands.

"One would think that with the way you jump to conclusions you'd be in much better shape," Amanda shoots back.

"She didn't drag me out of bed, I got out on my own," Paul puts in.

"Then you can get yourself right back in," Annie states, pointing back down the hall towards his room.

"I don't want to go back to bed," Paul argues, getting a very determined look on his face.

"Annie, unless you're looking to attract Hank's attention and bring him in here, then I suggest you let it go," Amanda quietly interjects before Annie can start arguing with her son.

"Are you trying to tell me how to raise my kids?" Annie demands.

"No, I'm warning you that Hank has very sensitive hearing and if you start yelling at Paul, Hank's going to come up here and investigate," Amanda softly tells her as she plugs her laptop into its power cord and opens it up. "Since you have made it perfectly clear that you're not interested in letting Hank know what you and Paul are, I strongly recommend that you just chill out."

"I can't wait until you have kids so I can undermine your authority," Annie growls.

"This has nothing to do with undermining authority," Amanda calmly replies while she sits down at her desk. "Take a look at your son and tell me he isn't about to fight you tooth and nail about getting back into bed."

Annie looks at Paul and the boy stares back at his mother, unflinching.

"I can't wait for you to have kids so I can completely undermine your authority the way you have mine," Annie snarls before turning and storming out of the room.

There's a collective sigh of relief from the two remaining people in the room as Amanda logs into her email account.

"Man, Mom's crankier than normal," he mumbles as he flops back on the bed again. "She's been like that ever since last night. I wonder what her problem is."

"She's not a big fan of strangers and I arrived last night with a famous stranger," she answers while she starts to go through and delete all of the spam and junk mail from her folder. "I have a feeling that she's going to be stressed out the entire time we're here. You're best bet is to just stay out of her way as much as possible."

"That's easy for you to say," he grumbles. "You're not her kid that she gets to boss around."

"No, I'm her sister whom she delighted in tormenting while we were growing up," she responds. "I've got sixteen years to your nine, so don't even get me started."

"The way Mom tells it, you were the one always picking on her," he says.

"Well, it usually worked as she would tell Mom that I did something wrong, I'd get punished and then I'd get back at her and then she'd go tell Mom," she replies, looking over her shoulder at him. "It got to be a rather vicious circle after a while."

"Bet you loved it when Mom was at Xavier's," he muses.

"It was nice not to be getting in trouble all of the time, but I'm a social person so it was pretty boring most of the time," she tells him, turning back to her computer.

"Can I hang out in here for a while?" he asks after a minute of silence.

"Sure, but I'm reading my email right now, so I'm not going to be very good company," she answers.

"That's ok," he assures her as he flips back onto his back. "As long as you don't try tucking me into bed and reading Winnie-the-Pooh stories to me, I'm good."

"She didn't really…?" she starts, once again turning her attention back to her nephew.

"She did," he answers as he gets comfortable on her bed.

She chuckles, shakes her head and then turns her gaze back to her computer screen.

* * *

_To: LawyerGirl_

_From: NotGuilty1_

_Subject: I DID IT!_

_Hi Amanda,_

_I DID IT! I passed my driver's license test on the second try! I am officially able to drive myself to the mall!!! At least I would be if Miss Munroe didn't insist that I take at least one adult with me. But that's ok, Rogue and Kitty are both over eighteen and they don't mind going to the mall with me. _

_Well, Kitty wouldn't mind if she wasn't still grounded. She got caught trying to add starch to all of Mr. Logan's laundry the other week so now she's his personal slave. Miss Munroe calls her his assistant, Kitty calls herself his slave. Mr. Logan is loving every minute of it too and poor Kitty is barely getting any sleep between classes, homework and helping Mr. Logan out. _

_She's now taking classes over at the local college and is looking to get her teaching credentials so she can teach computer science here. Rogue, Peter and Bobby are all doing it too. Rogue is going to become our geography teacher, Peter will do social studies and Bobby will do history. _

_It'll be great to have more teachers since Miss Munroe is taking up most of the slack and it's really stressing her out. If her hair wasn't already white, it'd be turning it. Mr. Wagner and Mr. Worthington are doing what they can, but they're just teaching out of the books and don't really know what they're doing._

_In more good news, I'm finally getting a handle on my powers. I still have to think about that horrible night to get my powers to work, but at least Miss Munroe doesn't have to run the video of it any more. I'm getting pretty good at making it work on command. Miss Munroe is hoping that it'll be possible for me to control my powers enough that I can give anywhere a gentle push to a full out blast, but that's wishful thinking as far as I'm concerned. At least I know I'm not completely hopeless._

_Oh, Miss Munroe and Mr. Wagner are finally going to go out on their first date after Christmas. Mr. Wagner is planning on taking her out someplace really nice and Jubilee can't talk about anything else right now. I asked if Mr. Wagner's blue skin was going to be a problem and she said that not to worry about it, they've got it covered._

_Turns out that new guy I told you about likes Jubilee, so they're now an official couple. I'm not having a lot of luck with guys, but at least I don't have to hide who I am any more like I did when I lived with my mom and that man she calls a husband. Oh well, at least I can drown my sorrows in marshmallows and hot cocoa. _

_Speaking of Christmas, you should see this place! They've got the biggest tree I've ever seen in the library and the place smells like pine. There are decorations everywhere and someone's been hanging mistletoe all over the place. At least they were until Mr. Logan tore them all down after he got ambushed and got so many kisses that his face was covered in lipstick. I'm pretty sure that was Kitty's idea, but nobody has any proof._

_Kitty's Jewish so there's a menorah here too. It's been pretty cool learning about Chanukah and what the menorah means._

_Everyone who celebrates Christmas has a secret Santa and I've got some kid named Kenny. I'm not even sure who he is. I've been trying to figure out who has me, but right now I haven't got a clue._

_Well, I've got to go now. Tell Hank I said 'hi' whenever you see him next._

_Hugs,_

_Serena_

_PS – I saw the pictures of you from the White House party you went to. WOW! Everyone agrees that your dress was absolutely gorgeous and Hank looks like he doesn't know what hit him._

* * *

_To: NotGuilty1_

_From: LawyerGirl_

_Subject: Re: I DID IT!_

_Hi Serena,_

_Congratulations on getting the driver's license. I remember when I got mine when I was sixteen; it was one of the happiest days of my life especially since it took me three tries. Something about going ten miles over the speed limit seemed to upset the guy giving me the test._

_I'm glad to hear that you're getting better control over your powers. I'm sure that's a big relief to you and I'm very happy for you. I knew you could do it._

_I'll tell Hank you said 'hi' when I go downstairs. Heaven help me, but I brought him home with me for Christmas to meet my family. My mother has already gone nuts and we've been here for less than a day. My mother is so desperate for me to get married that I wouldn't be surprised if she dragged me into a bridal shop to look at wedding dresses before the week is out. This is going to be the longest Christmas ever._

_Well, I should get going. I'm afraid if I leave Hank alone for too long my mother will start measuring him for a tux. There's no way I'm telling her that he already owns one._

_Have a Merry Christmas and tell everyone I said 'hi'._

_Hugs,_

_Amanda_

_PS – Could you please send me the link to the site you saw those pictures on? Thanks._

* * *

_To: LawyerGirl_

_From: TheMoneyGuy_

_Subject: Fun in the sun_

_Hey Girlfriend!_

_How's the weather up in the frozen wastelands? If I knew what the Bahamas were like when Tom was still alive, I would his dragged his gorgeous ass down here for Christmas every year. Oh the things we could have done on moonlit nights on the beach. Of course, if I thought for one second I would lose him to that idiot drunk driver, I wouldn't have let him out of my sight!_

_So how did things go Saturday night? How were the post-party activities? Did he give you a Christmas present that you won't soon forget? _

_Have you told your parents about Hank yet? Make sure you take pictures of their faces when you tell them, I so want to see their faces, especially that catty little beast you call a sister. How that hunky husband of hers puts up with her is beyond me, but the sex must be something else._

_Well, I've got to go now. I'm getting a private snorkeling tour by one of the natives who has abs you could do your laundry on and hands that can engulf a cocoanut. Of course, it's not cocoanuts that I want him to grab._

_Lots of love and have a good Christmas,_

_Dougie_

* * *

_To: TheMoneyGuy_

_From: LawyerGirl_

_Subject: Re: Fun in the sun_

_Hi Dougie,_

_It's supposed to snow tonight which the kids are looking forward to. I am too since it doesn't quite seem like Christmas without snow. Maybe if I'm lucky we'll get snowed in and I won't have to sing at church tomorrow night. Mom volunteered me. Again._

_Saturday night went very well and it's none of your business what we did after the party, but let's just say the maid that cleaned up Hank's room the next day had an easy job. He gave me a beautiful gold necklace with a heart shaped pendant for Christmas that I can't wait to show you. He really liked the book I gave him. Thanks for helping me find it._

_Thanks to some guy whose truck decided to stall, there was an accident on the northern train line into Ashley so I couldn't take the train. All the flights are booked until after Christmas and the only thing the car rental agencies had were Hummers, so I didn't have a lot of options. Well, to make a long story short, Hank drove me to my parents' place and is giving up his nice quiet vacation up in Vermont to spend it with me and my crazy family. _

_I do wish I had the camera waiting for when Hank stepped out of the car. I swear Dad's jaw was around his knees and Mom's eyes nearly fell out of her head. Annie looked like she was ready to spit tacks and Mike was about to burst something trying to keep from laughing. The girls love him and Paul seems to like him. Even some of the cats have taken a liking to him and joined him in bed last night. Wish I could do the same._

_If Hank can survive this holiday, he can survive anything, which is good because I can't really imagine my life without him right now. And if you repeat that to anyone I will deny it even under oath. The last thing I need right now is my mother knowing that I've found someone I'd be willing to spend my life with. I have no idea if Hank feels the same way, so until I do know, it's best that she doesn't know. Ya know?_

_Have fun in the Bahamas and I know you'll be careful._

_All my love,_

_Amy_


	56. Father Clancy

**Author's Notes:** Well, I'm back from vacation and I survived heat, humidity and in-laws and I managed to write most of this chapter. Thank you Takerslady, theNightEnchantress, jane-ant-that-plain, dog youkai jane, Mythigal and snapes opera rose for your reviews.

* * *

"Are you sure this isn't too much?" Stuart asks.

"No, I'm fine," Hank assures his host. "I could take more, but I'm afraid that would leave me with the inability to see where I'm going."

"I'm not even carrying half of the amount of wood you are and my arms are starting to scream," Mike chuckles as he tries to shift his load to ease the strain without dropping any of it. "I think he's toying with us, Stuart."

"I assure you, gentlemen, I am not toying with you," Hank tells them as they start to head back to the house.

"Yeah right," Mike snorts while Stuart opens the back door. "That's why you pretended to slip on occasion when you were splitting the logs."

"Well, it has been some time since I last split wood, so I'm afraid I'm woefully out of practice," Hank replies, not bothering to tell the other two men that it was only a month ago that he had filled his parents' woodshed.

Mike only gives Hank a disbelieving look before snickering and then following Stuart into the house. Hank silently brings up the rear, carrying more wood than the other two combined and managing to firmly close the back door even with his arms full, faintly hearing the doorbell at the other end of the house. Hank silently follows the other two men from a distance, sighing to himself that while he kept his word to Amanda to take it easy on her father, he knows the older man didn't buy it for a minute.

* * *

"You keep pacing like that and you'll wear a hole in my carpet," Cathy teases.

"If I stop pacing, I'll start climbing the walls," Amanda states, not bothering to slow down.

"Why are you so nervous?" Cathy asks as she starts to pull platters and serving bowls out of the hutch.

"Oh, I don't know," Amanda answers in a near hysterical voice. "Maybe it has something to do with Father Clancy coming over for dinner tonight when I happen to have my boyfriend here."

"So why would that make you nervous?" Cathy questions, pretending ignorance.

"Oh please, Mom," Amanda replies with a humorless laugh. "You've been trying to marry me off for ages and you can't tell me that you aren't silently planning my wedding to a man I've only known for a couple of months."

"Oh really, Amy, don't be so paranoid," Cathy scoffs. "It's not like I'm going to have him marry you in the living room."

_Dad would if he knew what we were doing before we came here_, Amanda thinks to herself.

"Besides, if I wanted to plan your wedding, I would invite Charlene to dinner, not Father Clancy," Cathy continues, completely and blissfully unaware of her daughter's thoughts. "After all, she's the church secretary and she would know what days the church is available."

"Thanks Mom, that's a great comfort," Amanda snorts.

"What's a great comfort?" Annie inquires as she walks into the room.

"That if I wanted to plan Amy's wedding to Hank, I would have invited over the church secretary, not the priest," Cathy chuckles as she collects the serving items and starts for the kitchen.

"The thought of you getting married and having kids is rather frightening," Annie says acidly.

"Could you two please try and get along this evening?" Cathy requests with a look for her daughters that promises much misery for the both of them if they don't comply.

"I will if she will," Annie says as Cathy leaves the room, sounding innocent and much put upon.

"I will when you shit out whatever crawled up your ass and died," Amanda growls under her breath, knowing full well that her mother will never hear it, but Annie will.

Before Annie can shoot back a scathing retort, Amanda is out of the room and down the hall, silently praying to God that she'll be able to keep from strangling her sister in the foreseeable future. She hears the back door shutting just as the doorbell rings and with a groan, she goes to answer it. She spots her father heading to the living room with his arms loaded down with wood for the fire and sweating with the effort, but it barely registers in her brain as she reaches the front door. With the fake calmness she's learned from being a lawyer and with a pleasant look plastered on her face, she opens the door to a gentleman about her father's age, though he's quite a bit shorter.

"Amy!" Father Clancy happily cries as he opens his arms. "It's so good to see you again."

"Hi, Father Clancy," she replies with a genuine smile as she quickly bends over for her hug, making sure that the embrace doesn't end up with the priest's face buried in her chest.

"How are you?" he asks as soon as they step apart.

"I'm doing well," she answers while she ushers him into the house.

"Your mother tells me you brought home quite a surprise yesterday," he jovially says as he unzips his coat.

"Yeah, I finally brought home a boyfriend," she confesses, shutting the door behind him.

"He must be some…one…special," he says, gasping the last couples of words, his eyes becoming very wide.

She turns to see Hank coming down the hallway loaded down with more firewood than should be physically possible for anyone to carry.

"You could say that," she replies, unable to keep a smile off of her face.

"Ah, I see your parents' extra dinner guest has arrived," Hank says with his own grin.

"I'll properly introduce the two of you as soon as you have your arms free," she tells Hank as she waves him into the living room.

"Was that…?" Father Clancy starts, his eyes still rather large.

"It was," she confirms as she helps him out of his coat and he starts laughing a good, loud belly laugh that's amazing loud for coming out of such a small frame.

"I always knew that when you found someone special enough, he would be very different," he chuckles while she hangs his coat up. "I just never imagined how special or different."

"Well, it's not like I had a lot of choices about bringing him home with me," she tells him as her father emerges from the living room, dusting small pieces of bark and sawdust off of his clothing and hands.

"Father Clancy, so good of you to join us," Stuart greets as he steps forward to shake the other man's hand.

"I could hardly do otherwise, especially after hearing that Amy has finally brought home a special someone," Clancy replies, a grin stuck to his face.

"Yes, she caught us by surprise too," Stuart tells him while they head for the living room where Mike is helping stack the wood in Hank's arms, Amanda quietly trailing behind them.

"But a most welcome surprise, I'm sure," Clancy responds, barely even noticing the heavily decorated room.

"Father Clancy, I'd like you to meet Hank McCoy," Amanda introduces as the last pieces of wood are neatly stacked next to the fireplace. "Hank, this is my parents' pastor, Father Tim Clancy."

"A pleasure to meet you, Father," Hank says as he hastily brushes his hands off and then shakes the newcomer's hand.

"Oh, the pleasure is entirely mine, Ambassador," Clancy says as he pumps the larger hand.

"Please, call me Hank," Hank insists.

"With pleasure," Clancy assures him before turning to the other man in the room. "Mike, how are you? It's so good to see you again. How's the family?"

"Hi, Father," Mike greets as he shakes the offered hand. "We're all fine. How are you and Nancy?"

"We're doing very well, thank you," Clancy replies.

"I thought I heard Father Clancy's laugh," Cathy states as she steps into the room.

"Ah, Cathy, so good to see you again," Clancy greets and goes to hug his hostess. "You left church after services so quickly yesterday I didn't have a chance to talk to you."

"I know, I'm sorry about that but I had to get home to make sure that everything was ready for when Amy came home," Cathy responds. "And I must that I'm very glad that I did. Now, dinner will be served shortly, so perhaps a few of you gentlemen should wash up. Amy, would you mind helping me in the kitchen please?"

"I thought I was banned from helping in the kitchen after the mashed potato incident," Amanda states suspiciously.

"You can at least help get the food on the table," Cathy replies, staring at her daughter with a dangerous glint in her eye.

"Fine," Amanda responds, having no doubt that her mother has another reason for wanting her assistance.

"Would you care for more help?" Hank asks as the women reach the doorway.

"Oh, thank you, Hank, but that won't be necessary," Cathy assures him cheerfully just before she and Amy leave the room.

"So, what did I do to offend Princess Annie this time?" Amanda quietly questions when they're about half way down the hallway, sarcasm dripping from her words. "Did I sneeze wrong? Or maybe I didn't genuflect the way she likes. Or perhaps, it's the fact that I refuse to bow down and grovel at her feet."

"Really, Amy, this is beneath you," Cathy replies in exasperation. "Is it really that hard for the two of you to get along even for one evening? You're both adults now; you could try acting like it."

"I will when she does," Amanda retorts. "Of course, that will require her to stop running to you or Dad every time she thinks I've slighted her in the least. It would also help if you and Dad didn't give into her every little whim"

"What makes you think we do any such thing?" Cathy demands as they enter the kitchen.

"Oh, I don't know," Amanda drawls while she leans against a counter as Cathy starts filling bowls. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you never ask for my help in the kitchen unless she's been whining about something. Maybe it's time you let Annie start fighting her own battles, Mom. She's a grown woman now, not a sickly child who may not survive the night."

Before Cathy can form a response, Amanda grabs a couple bowls of food and heads for the dining room. She finds Annie there overseeing the kids while they set the table, making sure everything is just so. Amanda barely spares her sister a glance as she sets the bowls down on the table and then returns to the kitchen, never seeing Annie's withering glare.

* * *

Hank silently endures grace as Father Clancy blesses the food, Amanda and her family, him, the house and all of God's creatures, trying to ignore his grumbling belly and snarling Beast.

_Food_, Beast growls impatiently. _Eat_.

_Soon_, Hank assures it and a moment later Amen is said and the food starts to be passed around the table.

"So, Amy, what song will you be gracing us with this year?" Clancy asks as he helps himself to some salad and anyone who was about to take a drink quickly sets his or her glass back down while Hank furrows his brow at this curious behavior.

"I thought I'd do a medley of songs this year," Amanda answers with a straight face.

"And which songs would those be?" Clancy inquires, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, I thought I'd start off with **Christmas at Ground Zero**, followed by **Grandma got Ran Over by a Reindeer** and then finishing up with **The Night Santa Went Crazy**," Amanda replies seriously while Mike and the kids snicker, Cathy and Stuart both sigh while rolling their eyes, Annie studiously ignores the conversation and Clancy and Hank both have a good laugh.

"Amy, you are such a delight," Clancy chuckles a short time later as he wipes tears from his eyes. "Now, as much fun it would be to hear you sing these amusing songs, I was hoping for something a bit more sacred then secular."

"Fine," Amanda sighs dramatically and Hank quietly snickers. "What do you suggest?"

"How about the song you did last year?" Clancy suggests. "I heard nothing but complements afterwards."

"Very well," Amanda moans, acting completely disappointed.

"Good, I'll put you towards the end of the service, if you don't mind," Clancy says. "That should give the song a nice dramatic effect with all of the candles glowing."

"That'll be so neat," Bethany chirps.

"Will you wear your hair up?" Beverly asks excitedly. "I like your hair when it's up."

"Oh and you have to wear the green blouse," Bethany adds. "You did bring it with you, didn't you?"

"Yes, I have it with me," Amanda chuckles.

"Oh and the black skirt, the fuzzy one," Beverly puts in, all but jumping up and down in her seat.

"So what song will you be performing?" Hank asks, realizing that the girls have completely derailed the topic.

"You'll find out tomorrow night," Beverly quickly tells him with a sly smile on her face.

"You'll like it, trust us," Bethany adds as she grins at him.

"Then I will take the world of two lovely young ladies," Hank tells the girls with a chuckles deep in his throat. "I must say that I am now eagerly waiting for tomorrow night."

"Well, if Amy gives us her usually excellent performance, than you shall not be disappointed," Clancy assures him. "Do you regularly attend church, Hank?"

"I'm afraid that I don't," Hank confesses. "When I was living with my parents we went as often as we could, though the winter months often meant we often spent days being snow bound. I remember one winter that was so bad that the snow plows were unable to get to us for nearly a month. It's a good thing my mother was always canning and preserving the fruits and vegetables from the garden. Though I'm afraid the chickens that we kept for eggs didn't fair as well that month. After that my parents always made sure we were well stocked for the winter just in case."

"We had a few winters like that when the girls were still young," Stuart says. "Fortunately after the first winter we invested in a full sized freezer so the chickens were safe."

"Didn't you also have goats?" Hank asks.

"Yes, but have you ever tried goat meat?" Stuart counters with a grimace. "It's not the most palatable food in the world, besides we needed them for their milk."

"So how did you manage the boredom that is inevitable with being trapped inside a building for so long?" Hank questions.

"With a lot of patience and even more praying," Cathy states with a smile. "We have a closet full of games and a library of books that helped us get through the dull times and when things got really rough we had The Good Book to turn to."

"So, what were the most played games?" Hank questions. "I know with my family it was **Monopoly** and **Trivial Pursuit**."

"Amy preferred **Monopoly** as well, but Annie liked **Yatzee**," Cathy replies.

"If you decide to play **Monopoly** against Amy, be warned that she's quite the land baron," Stuart warns with a smile.

"I shall keep that in mind," Hank chuckles. "Maybe Trivial Pursuit would garner me better results, if you have it."

"Oh we have it," Amanda tells him. "But the only way I'm playing is if I'm on your team."

"I have no problem with that," Hank happily replies, Beast purring at the idea of being close to her.

"I do," Mike says suddenly and everyone looks at him in shock. "The only way I'm playing Trivial Pursuit against Hank is if is on his own team and the rest of are on the other."

"Either way, you know he's going to mop the floors with the competition," Paul mumbles, not even looking up from his food.

"Why do you think I want to be on his team?" Amanda laughs.

"Well, if you get to be on his team, I want to be on it too," Paul states, finally looking up at his aunt.

"Us too!" the twins chime in eagerly.

"Hold it, not everyone can be on Hank's team for one," Amanda tells them. "For another thing, by the time dinner is done, the food put away and the dishes washed, you three will probably be in bed."

"But we want to play too," Beverly whines.

"We haven't even decided if we're going to play anything yet, so there's no point in discussing it right now," Cathy states forcefully, fixing each of the kids with a firm glare.

The kids stare at their grandmother for several seconds before they concede defeat and then sullenly go back to their meals. Dinner is eaten in a tense silence for several long minutes while Hank wracks his brains trying to come up with something that will lessen the tension in the room. He hits upon something that was briefly said earlier in the evening and while he knows that he'll pay for it later, he decides that it will be a good mood lifter.

"Amanda, I was wondering about something," Hank says.

"What's that?" Amanda replies, leaning over her plate so she can see past Paul and Mike to finally land her gaze on Hank.

"What was the 'mashed potatoes incident'?" he asks and a horrified look passes over her face.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the rights to **Monopoly, Trivial Pursuit, Yatzee, Christmas at Ground Zero, Grandma got ran over by a Reindeer** or **The Night Santa Went Crazy**. 


	57. Mashed Potatoes & Feelings

**Author's Notes:** Yes! I'm still alive and I survived summer vacation (anyone with kids will know exactly what I mean). Well, my muse has done again. She has me writing four stories in four different universes again. _Sigh._ I'll try and keep everything up to date though. As always, a big thanks to Music is my Muse, LovelyLadyJem, Takerslady, K.R.M., SparrowsVixon, jane-ant-that-plain, dog youkai jane, theNightEnchantress and Mythigal for your reviews.

* * *

"Oh, sweet Jesus," she moans as she slumps down her chair, hands covering her face and snickers fill the air from some of the others. "Just shoot me, shoot me now."

"It's the reason that if she ever offers to make you dinner, that you should probably pass on it," Mike tells Hank. "Or at least have your own stomach pump."

"Uh-oh," Bethany mutters under her breath.

"Daddy's done it again," Beverly quietly giggles.

"Excuse me, Mr. I-can't-even-boil-a-pot-of-water?" Amanda challenges, dropping her hands onto the table and sitting up before turning her blazing green eyes onto her brother-in-law.

"Been nice knowin' ya, Dad," Paul mumbles.

"Hey, at least I readily admit I can't cook," Mike counters.

"So did I, but that didn't stop Mom and Annie from dragging me into the kitchen kicking and screaming and telling me I was going to learn to cook one way or another," Amanda shoots back. "And if memory serves me correctly, it was _your_ suggestion that caused them to do so."

"Perhaps we should start this story from the beginning," Hank suggests since he has a feeling that things will not go well if they continue at the rate they are.

"Yes, please," Clancy adds. "I've only heard bits and pieces of this story and I'd really love to know the whole thing."

"Lovely," Amanda grumbles as she slouches down in her seat.

"Please, Amanda," Hank softly requests and she immediately caves with a sigh.

"A few years ago Mike made a snide comment about my lack of cooking skills and Mom and Amy got it in their heads that I needed to learn to cook something other than scrambled eggs and grilled cheese sandwiches," she starts.

"She lives on take out and frozen dinners," Cathy complains.

"And junk food," Annie softly growls.

"So I was put in charge of making the mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving that year," Amanda continues, ignoring her mother and sister's comments. "Never mind that I barely know the difference between a potato masher and an egg slicer, _that_ was going to be my job for that Thanksgiving. So the potatoes got peeled, boiled and drained and everything was going fine until Mr. Helpful here got me the sour cream out of the fridge."

"Hey, how was I supposed to know that someone used an old sour cream carton to put the leftover plain yogurt in?" Mike gripes.

"Like I was supposed to notice that it was yogurt and not sour cream?" Amanda demands before turning back to the rest of the table. "It's not like I use them…ever! So I plop in what he handed me and mashed away. By the time I was done pounding the potatoes into a white blob, it looked fine, but when we tried to eat it, that was something else all together."

"That must have been quite the taste sensation," Hank says, trying not to laugh and it doesn't help that Clancy is also trying not to chuckle across the table from him.

"To say the least," Stuart snickers.

"Oh for heaven's sake, just go ahead and laugh," Amanda grumbles. "Otherwise you're going to hurt something."

Snickering and chuckling fill the air for a few moments as she slumps down in her chair and pushes her food around her plate. Hank stops after a few soft chuckles, especially when he notices her sudden downturn in her mood. He looks over at her sadly, wishing there was a way to comfort her without setting her father off.

"So, Hank," Cathy says after the chortling has calmed down. "How many children do you hope to have some day?"

"Oh, um," Hank stammers, completely taken by surprise and a quick glance at Amanda tells him he is on his own for this one. "You know, I have never really given it much thought. It would depend on any future wife I might have."

"Spoken like a true politician," Clancy snickers. "So tell me Hank, what is life like at the UN? All the rest of see is what they show on the news. I imagine being right there in the middle of everything must be much different that what the rest of us see."

Hank gladly answers Clancy's question, happy for a chance to get away from the questions of any possible progeny that he may or may not have and the rest of the dinner conversation pretty much consists of Clancy asking Hank questions, much to Amanda's relief.

* * *

Several hours later, Amanda's lying in her bed trying to read a book, but her mind keeps drifting off to earlier in the evening when Hank decided to bring up that rather embarrassing part of her past. It didn't help that Annie had a smug little look on her face that Amanda wanted to rip right off or that Hank seemed oblivious to the fact that she was upset. Why did he have to remember her making that stupid comment about the mashed potato incident?

She knows what's happening to her, enough time with a therapist has taught her to recognize the signs. Her parent's insistence on catering to Annie's every whim, Annie's constant little catty remarks and glares and now Hank adding to her embarrassment with his thoughtless question has her wanting to crawl under a rock never to come out. She's depressed and she knows it.

Reluctantly, she gets up and pulls her bags out from the closet before pulling up a loose floor board and retrieves her bottle of pills. She just kneels on the floor staring at the little white bottle with it's prescription label glaring at her, almost as if it's accusing her of not being able to keep a proper chemical balance in her brain. Just holding the bottle in her hand makes her more depressed and she lets out a sad sigh as she goes to open the child proof cap. She hates taking the damn things, but if it keeps her from having to take another trip to the hospital emergency room, then she will take them.

She silently wishes that she was someplace else than here, preferably with Hank as she struggles with the cap. She doesn't know how or why, but usually when she's with him, everything is alright and she feels completely at peace and safe, even if things aren't quite going the way they should. The only times she hasn't had those feelings around him has been when they had that fight the other night and earlier this evening. She silently hopes it's not a sign of things to come as she finally gets the top off the bottle.

_TAP TAP TAP_

Startled, she quickly turns and stares at her window, but the heavy curtains prevent her from seeing out. She can feel her heart start to race since she knows what the sound of one of the branches of the elm tree tapping against her window sounds like and that isn't it. It sounded like a fingernail against the window and she wonders who would be crazy enough to climb that tree at night and why.

"Amanda?" Hank's muffled voice calls through the double paned glass and she nearly laughs with relief.

She immediately gets up and heads across the room, but as she reaches out to pull back the drapes, she notices she still has her bottle of pills in her hands. She quickly puts the cap back on and then hides the bottle in the drawer of her dresser. As soon as she's sure it's safely hidden, she pulls back the curtains to reveal a smiling blue face and she opens the window a crack, shivering as a blast of freezing cold air hits her.

"Hank, what the devil are you doing out there?" she demands in a hushed voice through the screen.

"Turning a deeper shade of blue," he quietly jokes with a big grin as he adjusts his grip on the branch to get closer. "May I please come in?"

"No, absolutely not!" she hisses back, as she grips the unbuttoned portion of her pajama top closed. "If my father caught you in my room he'd skin us both alive."

"Yes, he did seem rather protective of the staircase when I said I was going out for a stroll," he softly muses. "If I can't come in, could you at least remove the screen to the window?"

"Why?" she asks suspiciously, still keeping her voice down and trying not to shiver too much.

"So I can properly apologize," he tells her, his face going from jovial to a look of sadness and regret. "I have a feeling I upset you earlier this evening and I wish to make amends."

"Why didn't you apologize earlier?" she inquires, still feeling surly about earlier.

"Because the way I want to apologize would probably send your father running for his gun and your mother chasing after Father Clancy," he tells her with a devilish look in his eye.

"You're incorrigible, you know that?" she grumbles as she opens the window a bit more and then removes the screen.

"I do try," he chuckles as he reaches for her and cups her face in his hand.

"You're hand's cold," she complains with no real strength behind the words as she leans her face into his caress and closes her eyes.

When she feels his breath on her cheek, she opens her eyes just enough to see him coming in for a kiss. She leans forward until their lips meet and she sighs with a sense of wellbeing again as all of the tension seems to melt away from her body. She drops the screen onto the floor and reaches up to sink her fingers into his lush mane and they both let out moans of pleasure.

The kiss deepens and she can feel her nipples harden from more than just the cold air coming in the window. His hand slips from her face to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her long tresses and the possessive growl that escapes his throat sends a shiver right down her spine to that special place between her legs. He groans as the scent of her arousal hits his nostrils and the hand that was holding onto the tree lands on the window sill.

He starts to lean forward, pushing her back into her room and she tries to break off the kiss, but his hold on her is impossible to break. She whimpers as her traitorous body responds to his aggressive ways and she's quickly losing her will to fight him off, all caution gone, quite literally, out the window. His hand slides down her neck and brushes the side of one of her breasts before wrapping his arm around her waist. She moans with her need as he pulls her closer and sets one of his feet on the window sill while her arms circle his neck.

The sound of the kids stomping up the stairs, complaining about having to go to bed startles the two lovers apart. They stand there panting as the kids tromp past her door, whining about the unfairness of it all and Amanda's not sure who's shaking harder, her or Hank. She rests her head on his shoulder and tries to catch her breath while she listens to the sounds of the kids as they fade down the hallway.

"You should get going," she whispers and he nods his agreement as he carefully climbs out of her window and back into the tree.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he softly asks while she starts to move the screen back into place.

"Always," she quietly assures him as she reaches out and caresses his cheek.

He makes a sound deep in his throat that distinctly sounds like a purr as he rubs his face against her hand and she has to smile. He grabs her hand and then kisses the palm which sends a delightful shiver through her body and causes her to take in a sharp breath. He gives her a roguish grin before releasing her hand and then jumping from the tree, landing as quietly as a cat.

She stares at him in surprised wonder until he turns, flashes her another grin and then waves goodbye. She shakes her head and chuckles to herself as she replaces the screen and then shuts and locks her window, barely noticing the first fat snowflakes as they start to fall from the sky. She carefully closes the curtains and turns back to her room which seems garishly bright after the darkness of the night. With a smile on her lips, she turns off the light and climbs into bed as the memory of that kiss warms her chilled body back up. She tries not to think about the long week ahead as a hand slips between her legs to ease the pressure the kiss put there.

* * *

He takes a deep breath of biting cold air, closes his eyes and tries to bring his libido under control, but the memory of her warm, soft lips and the smell of her arousal aren't helping any. He groans as he feels his blood heading for below his belt and he struggles for control over his body while Beast gives him images of various things it'd like to do to her in her bed. He quickly thinks about Logan in a skort again, but it has little effect now so he makes mental Logan start doing the Can-Can and with a shriek of frustration, Beast backs off.

With a sigh of relief, he opens his eyes again and sees that it's started to snow. With child like glee, he opens his mouth and deftly catches a drifting flake on his tongue, instantly melting. He closes his eyes again as memories of his childhood roll through his mind and a nostalgic smile plays across his lips.

The simple times of just being a kid with no worries in the world, never knowing how incredibly different he would become when he became an adult. He remembers carefree days where he would do nothing more vigorous then making snowmen and catching snowflakes on his tongue. He remembers how proud he was with himself when he built an entire little town in the snow one day and how disappointed he was when it snowed during the night, completely covering it. He stood there staring at the spot his little town had occupied until his mother came out and called him in.

"Hank, what in the world are you doing?" she asks in a surprised and slightly worried voice. "You're going to catch your death cold standing out there."

_Funny, that doesn't sound like Mom, _he thinks to himself. _Though that is something she would say._

He opens his eyes and reality comes crashing back as he quickly remembers where he is. He turns to see a concerned Cathy standing on the porch watching him, her arms crossed over her chest as she tries to stay warm

"Just remembering my childhood when life was so much simpler," he softly admits. "So many things have changed since then. Decisions I've made, both good and bad, that have brought me to where I am today."

"Any regrets?" she questions as he starts to move towards her.

"A few," he admits. "But I will tell you a couple of things I haven't regretted in the least."

"What's that?" she inquires as he steps up onto the porch.

"Meeting Amanda and asking her out," he answers truthfully. "These past two months have had some of the best days of my life in them."

"Despite her hanging up on you?" she teases.

"Especially because she kept hanging up on me," he chuckles while brushing the snow off of his shoulders. "I wouldn't trade in the look on her face when she found out for all the tea in China."

"Too bad you didn't have a camera handy," she snickers as she starts to help him.

"True, but if I did, I doubt that she would have agreed to go out with me, so it's just as well that I didn't," he points out.

"Very true," she agrees. "Let's get inside. I don't know about you, but I'm starting to freeze."

"That does sound like a very good idea," he replies as he opens the door for her and waits for her to enter.

"You still have snow in your hair," she tells him while he shuts the door behind them.

"That's alright," he says. "I was planning on taking a shower, if that's ok."

"Yes, of course it is," she assures him. "You should probably use the one down here since the kids are probably still getting ready for bed."

"Good advice that I shall most certainly heed," he responds as he starts up the stairs.

"Goodnight, Hank," she says while she heads towards the kitchen.

"Goodnight, Cathy," he replies as he continues his journey up to the next level.

He can hear the kids long before he reaches the landing and just as he's passing Amanda's door, he catches a whiff of her scent.

_Mate,_ Beast demands.

_Not just now,_ Hank tells it as the sounds of Mike tickling the girls reaches them.

_Cubs,_ Beast states as if shocked and Hank marks another word in his other half's vocabulary.

_Yes, those are cubs,_ Hank patiently tells it.

Beast falls silent and Hank breathes a sigh of relief as he heads to his room to collect his things. He quickly gathers his essentials and heads back towards the stairs, hearing Mike now reading to the kids as he walks past their room. He gets a strange sense of longing that he's never had before, but before he can dwell on it, he passes Amanda's room again and her scent rouses Beast from his quiet state.

_Mate!_ Beast insists.

_We can't,_ Hank reminds it. _When we get home, then we will spend time with mate._

Hank knows Beast will not be satisfied with this answer and hastily makes his way to the downstairs bathroom. He barely gets the door shut before Beast starts throwing erotic images of him and Amanda doing all sorts of delightful things. He can feel his blood flowing south again and this time he doesn't fight it.

He turns on the water and then strips, careful not to snag or hit any part of his anatomy that's currently a bit more sensitive than usual. As soon as the water is ready, he steps into the warm stream and then takes himself in hand, gladly letting his mind wander back to the kiss he shared with his very special lady. It doesn't take him long before he's biting back a roar as the pressure is released and he leans against the wall panting, wondering how he's going to survive an entire week with only the occasional stolen moment with her.


	58. Snowballs

**Author's notes:** A few people have asked about a couple of the characters in here and I will tell you that Shade, Motherboard and Thorn are all my creations and I ask that you please don't borrow them without my permission. Thanks to LifeBringsMeOnlyTears, SparrowsVixon, LovelyLadyJem, Takerslady, Music is my Muse, Erisah Mae, dog youkai jane, Mythigal and tasha for your reviews.

* * *

"How is she?" he asks the exhausted looking young man that's just come into his office.

"She'll live," Pyro answers as he drops down into one of the chairs in front of the desk. "She's got some first and second degree burns, a concussion, a lot of lacerations from pieces of the computer that hit her and several stitches in her head, neck and shoulder. It's a good thing she wasn't facing the computer when it blew up or it would have been a lot worse. She's going to have a punk haircut to go with the green hair now since they had to shave half of her head."

"Were the police involved?" Magneto inquires.

"No, though the doctors are kind of wondering why a computer would blow up," Pyro replies.

"I was wondering about that myself," Magneto muses.

"I don't know what happened and all I could get out of Mother is that there was someone else there," Pyro tells him. "They had her pretty doped up so I couldn't get anything more coherent out of her."

"When will she be released?" Magneto questions.

"Tomorrow," Pyro responds. "They want to keep her for observation because of the concussion."

"As soon as she's released, I want her back here," Magneto instructs and Pyro nods his agreement. "I'm very curious as to who else was in the room since I know that she and I were only ones in there mere seconds before the computer exploded."

"I'll go back in the morning and bring her back as soon as I can," Pyro assures him. "I'm going to go check on Shade now. Is there anything you need?"

"Thorn has seen to my needs, thank you," Magneto replies. "I want you to get some food and rest as soon as you can. You won't do the Brotherhood any good wearing yourself out like this."

"Yes, sir," Pyro replies as he wearily gets to his feet. "The Brotherhood is my family and I will always be here to serve any way I can."

With that, Pyro leaves behind a man who couldn't be prouder if the young man was his own flesh and blood.

* * *

**BANG!**

"AUNT AMY!!!"

The sound of her door being flung open hard enough for it to slam into the wall and the twins yelling at the top of their lungs is enough to shock Amanda out of a sound sleep. It takes the woman a couple of seconds to figure out what's going on and by the time she does a couple of bodies land on her. She lets out a grunt and a groan while she tries to pull her covers over her head and the girls laugh as they bounce up and down on her and the bed.

"Aunt Amy, it snowed last night!"

"You promised to take us out sledding!"

"And help us make a snow fort!"

"And help us make the perfect snowball!"

"And make a snowman!"

"And snow angels!"

Amanda just moans in response as the girls practically yelling over each other, all the time shaking the woman who wants nothing more than to go back to sleep. Amanda cracks an eye open and peeks out from under the covers to look at her clock. With a displeased growl, she pulls the covers more securely over her head and does her best to ignore the two hyper bouncing bodies on top of her.

"Bethany! Beverly!" Mike whisper yells at the girls from the doorway. "What the Devil are you two doing in here?"

"Aunt Amy promised to take us sledding the next time it snowed."

"And she promised to help us make a snow fort and to make snowballs."

"And snowmen and snow angels."

The girls are still talking over each other and Amanda's too tired to try to figure out who's saying what.

"I don't care if she promised to teach you how to make castles in the sky out of Twinkies," Mike growls. "It's not even six in the morning. Now go back to bed and go back to sleep."

"But we're not tired," Beverly whines.

"Then go play with your dolls or read a book or something, but just do it quietly," he snarls. "The rest of us are trying to sleep."

"But…," Bethany starts.

"One more word out of either of you and you won't be going to midnight mass tonight," he threatens. "Is that understood?"

Amanda can hear their little mouths snap shut and a second later she feels the girls climbing off of her and the bed.

"You ok, Amy?" he asks a few moments later.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she mumbles and she can hear her door quietly shut a moment later.

With a sigh, she gets more comfortable and gladly drifts off back to sleep, never realizing that even in the low light the girls were able to see that her bags were pulled out of the closet.

* * *

Several hours later the girls are working on their snow fort with their aunt's help while Paul and his father work on another one and Hank, in a sudden fit of nostalgia, is off to the side making a little town out of snow. Stuart quietly sits on one of the chairs on the covered porch watching them as he sips his coffee while Annie and Cathy are furiously baking away in the kitchen. He and the rest of the family learned long ago that the best thing to do when those two get into the baking mood is just to stay clear of the area and so the snow is a blessing despite how cold it is since the kids actually want to be outside for a while.

He watches his family as they prepare for an all out snowball fight and he has to laugh to himself since he's more than once experienced being on the wrong end of one of Amy's snowballs. The girl's got wickedly good aim and seems to have a way of hitting her victim in such a way that the melted water always ends up dripping down the collar. He then turns his attention to the lone man off to the side quietly humming to himself as he builds what appears to be a church steeple.

Why doesn't it surprise him that when his daughter finally finds someone that she's willing to admit that she's dating it would be Hank McCoy? He knows she's never done anything half way and the more shocking, the better it seems. He looks back at his daughter, her hair mussed up by the wind, her cheeks a bright pink from the cold and her eyes bright with laughter as she teaches her nieces how to make the perfect snowball.

It suddenly hits him that she's no longer a little girl, but a woman grown with a life of her own. He feels very old all of a sudden and he looks down into his cup, the weight of the years heavy upon his shoulders. With a sigh he realizes that his cup is empty and he goes inside to get a refill, trying not to think about the things his grown daughter may be doing with a certain ambassador when they're up in New York.

Amanda watches her father out of the corner of her eye and notes when he goes back inside probably for more coffee. She shares conspiratorial whispers with her nieces as she shows them how to make the perfect snowball. But what good is a perfect snowball if you don't know how to throw it? She carefully takes aim and lets the white sphere fly.

_**POOFT!!!**_

Bull's-eye! The girls start giggling hysterically while their aunt heads for the hills. Literally.

Hank blinks several times as his brain tries to come to terms with what's just happened. Someone threw a snowball at him and hit him right in the back of the head none the less. He turns around and sees Mike, Paul and the twins all laughing. He raises an eyebrow at them and they all point towards the woods. He can see the footprints in the fresh snow and a moment later he hears her laughter ringing from the trees.

With a playful growl, The Beast gives chase to his attacker and mate while Paul and Mike cheer him on and the girls call warnings to their aunt. With his heart racing and his senses soaring, he has a feral grin on his face as he passes the first trees and easily follows her footprints. The snow isn't very deep here because of the branches of the trees, but he's still able to follow them until they suddenly stop.

He wildly looks around as he tries to find why her footprints have disappeared though there's enough of snow on the ground. He takes a deep breath to try and catch her scent, but quickly realizes that wind is blowing in the wrong direction. He knows she can't fly so he looks to the trees and sure enough, there's a fairly low branch over where the footprints end and he smiles at her cunning.

After checking the tree attached to the branch and determining that the branches overlap enough for her to move from one tree to the next, he carefully scans the trees for any sign of her, his ears straining to catch the slightest whisper of movement. What was that? He quickly turns his head to look at the slight movement he caught out of the corner of his eye and only sees some melting snow falling off of a branch.

_**POOFT!!!**_

She catches him again with a snowball to the back of his head, but this time he easily locates her as he hears her laughing and he follows it to the source. She's laughing so hard she has to hang onto the tree and once she sees him below her, she already knows it's too late, but she tries to make a break for it anyways. With one mighty leap he's up in the tree with her and she lets out a startled squeak as he pins her to the trunk with a possessive growl.

She lets out a small whimper as her body starts to respond to that sound and she can feel her body beginning to tingle in all the right places. He can smell her becoming aroused and the Beast in him wants nothing more than to claim its mate even if it's just above freezing outside. He grinds his growing need against her and she lets out a moan just before his lips claim hers.

He kisses her as if he hasn't touched her in weeks, not hours and her arms circle his neck as she holds onto him for dear life. A need for air finally forces them apart and her head lolls to the side as he kisses his way to her ear so that he can drive her mad with need by nuzzling that sensitive part of her body. Moaning his name is the most coherent thing she can do as one of her legs wraps around his waist of its own accord.

He makes a sound between a growl and purr that sends a shiver down her spine and she pushes her hips against him. His lips find hers again and one of his hands starts to work its way past the several layers of clothing she's wearing to finally find its way to the warm skin of her torso. She gasps as the cold air hits her skin, but any protests quickly die on her lips as he caresses the underside of a satin covered breast making her nipples stand to attention and she lets out groan while he continues to attack her senses with his kisses.

"Hank? Amy?" Stuart voice calls from not too far away and she barely manages to bite back a yelp of surprise. "You two alright?"

Hank quickly withdrawals his hand from her torso and she bites her lip to keep from moaning at the loss of his touch. He brushes a few stray strands of hair out of her face and then gently cups her face in his hand. She turns her face towards his caress and he softly kisses her temple.

"This isn't over yet, my love," he whispers in her ear, causing goose bumps to cover her body and her nipples to get harder.

He wraps one arm firmly around her waist while the other hand slides under bottom and she instinctually holds him closer as her other leg circles around his waist, crossing her ankles to lock them in place. Before she can so much as squeak, he leaps out of the tree with her in his arms and by the time she draws a breath to say anything, they're on the ground once more. She glares at him, but the effect is lost because of the laughter she's trying to keep in makes her lips twitch and he gives her a devilish grin before setting her on her feet.

"Hank? Amy?" Stuart's voice echoes again among the trees.

Hank's grin widens and she gives him a quizzical look as he steps away from her. Before she can ask what he's up to, he bends over, wraps a powerful arm around her thighs and flips her onto his shoulder. She's so shocked she can't even utter a squeak of protest about being carried like a sack of potatoes.

"Where are you two?" Stuart asks, the worry and a bit of anger evident in his voice.

"Right here," Hank jovially answers as he comes marching out from behind the tree that they had been in.

"Put me down!" Amanda yells as she pushes off of his back so she can breathe easier.

"What's this all about?" Stuart demands with a frown while Hank heads back towards the house.

"Did you know you're daughter has very good aim?" Hank pleasantly asks as he passes the older man.

"Known it for years," Stuart chuckles as he turns to follow the couple and notes the snow still stuck in Hank's mane. "She probably could have played for the Yankees if she hadn't been a girl."

"A clear case of sexual discrimination," Amanda grumbles just before smacking Hank on the shoulder. "Now put me down."

"All in good time, my dear," Hank tells her, laughter evident in his voice as they come out of the trees.

"Put me down!" she demands starting to struggle which only makes him tighten his grip. "Blast it all, Hank, put me DOWN!"

"As my lady wishes," he chuckles evilly.

He slightly bends at the waist and then with a shrug, he unceremoniously dumps her into a deep drift. She lets out an undignified shriek as she goes down and a few choice words come out of the hole she's just made as she immediately starts to struggle out of the snow. He chuckles in a self satisfied manner and starts to head back towards his little snow village.

"You're gonna pay for that, McCoy," a voice snarls from behind him.

He looks back over his shoulder but even his lightening fast reflexes aren't fast enough to avoid the snowball that smacks him right in the kisser. He quickly wipes his face free of snow and reaches down to grab a handful, but another snowball finds the top of his head this time. With a growl he leaps after her just as she makes it back to the snow fort she and the girls constructed and the girls let loose with their stockpile of snowballs, not that they're aim is anywhere near as good as their aunt's, but a few still manage to hit Hank.

Hank's enhanced reflexes allow him to create and throw snowballs at an alarming rate, so the snowball battle is almost even, but then Paul and Mike decide to join in the fray. Snowballs start flying every which way and shrieks and laughter fill the air while Stuart hangs back by the trees staying well out of everybody's range. He watches Hank and Amanda carefully, not the least bit happy that it took them so long to answer him when he called for them and the fact that Hank was carrying her doesn't improve the overprotective parent's mood. He's sure they were up to something he wouldn't approve of and as he takes another sip of his coffee, he decides that he needs to be keeping a better eye on them.


	59. Christmas Eve

**Author's Notes**: I'M SORRY!!!! I'm really, really sorry. My muse has completely gone off the deep end with ideas for other stories that I'm not ready to write yet, including one of the continuing stories for this story. Did I mention that there will be at least four stories to this series? Hopefully they won't be as long as this one has become. At any rate, thanks to Erisah Mae, Takerslady, SparrowsVixon, jane-ant-that-plain, LifeBringsMeOnlyTears, LovelyLadyJem, Kana090, Mythigal, theNightEnchantress, dog youkai jane and nightangelx18 for your reviews.

* * *

Hank is peacefully reading the lovely book Amanda gave him, enjoying the peace and quiet since Annie and Mike left with the kids to go visit with Mike's family shortly after lunch, when Cathy walks in with a large box in her arms. Before he can say anything, she quickly puts it down and leaves the room. He looks at the box questioningly and a few moments later, the older woman returns with several rolls of Christmas wrapping paper, gift bags and a couple pairs of scissors.

Bemusedly, he watches as she clears off the coffee table of all of the decorations and then opens the box, revealing bows, ribbons, name tags and a tape dispenser. While it looks like she's getting ready to wrap presents, it's very obvious that there is nothing for her to wrap in the brightly colored paper. He opens his mouth to ask her about this when Stuart and Amanda come into the room, each carrying two large shopping bags filled with toys, games, books and what appear to be clothing boxes.

"Would you like some help?" Hank asks as he carefully marks his place and gets to his feet.

"Oh, don't be silly, Hank," Cathy answers while she takes the first bag that's offered to her and starts to pull various items out. "Go back to your reading and enjoy yourself."

"Please, I insist," he says as Amanda and Stuart put down the bags they're carrying near the older woman and leave.

"You're a guest, Hank, I can't possibly ask you to help," she replies as she opens the first roll of paper.

"An uninvited guest," he reminds her. "Please, I would really like to help."

"I just wouldn't feel right putting you to work," she counters while she measures out the amount of paper needed to wrap the first present.

"I assure you, helping out friends never feels like work," he tells her with a genuine smile.

Before she can put forth any further arguments against him helping out, a startled yelp, sounding distinctly like Amanda, and a loud 'THUMP' reach their ears. Without waiting for the older woman to so much as get to her feet, Hank is out of the room and down the hall in a heartbeat. He finds Amanda and a couple of bags worth of unwrapped presents sprawled out on the floor with Amanda partially through a door that Hank had previously assumed led into a closet, but in fact is the door that opens to the basement.

"Amanda, are you alright?" he questions worriedly as he helps her get unsteadily to her feet, resisting the urge to scoop her up and take her upstairs where he can examine her in private.

"Yeah, I just tripped," she grumbles while she brushes herself off and Cathy joins them a moment later. "You must think I'm such a klutz."

"You do seem to have an affinity for getting yourself hurt when I'm around," he softly chuckles as he goes to collect the scattered gifts with Cathy's help while Stuart stops at the top of the steps.

"What happened?" Stuart asks.

"I missed the top step and tripped," Amanda tells him with a shrug.

"Are you ok?" her father asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Amanda assures him. "Just a bit bruised, but I'll live."

"If there are more presents to be retrieved, I would more than gladly lend a hand at bringing them upstairs," Hank offers as the last of the gifts are picked up.

"That would be great," Stuart responds before Cathy can protest. "The kids are getting new bikes this year and I was dreading dragging them upstairs."

"Then it's settled," Hank states happily as they head towards the parlor. "I'll help bring up the presents and when that's done, I'll help wrap if you like."

"Actually, if you're as handy with a wrench as you are with an axe, I could use some help putting the bikes together too, if you don't mind," Stuart suggests.

"Gladly," Hank responds with a smile.

The next few hours are spent bringing up the presents, putting the bikes together, wrapping the gifts and then seeing to them being properly labeled, all the while the four adults talk and laugh the time away, munching on the goodies Cathy and Annie baked earlier. Hank gets the job of writing the names on the tags since the kids won't recognize his hand writing while Stuart attaches the labels and Cathy and Amanda arrange the packages just so. It's been many years since he's had such a heartwarming holiday and as he glances over at Amanda when her father isn't looking, he hopes that there will be many more of these to come.

* * *

Several hours later finds Hank waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs, expecting Amanda to make an appearance at any moment. He hasn't seen much of her since they finished wrapping the presents earlier mainly because she had to rush off to church to rehearse for this evening's performance and only returned shortly before dinner. Then she and her parents had all settled down to take naps soon after dinner had been cleared away in order to make it through this evening's midnight mass while Hank had stayed up, his mutation making it possible for him to go on less sleep than most people.

So now he waits and he can hear her parents just down the hallway, talking in hushed voices, not knowing that their voices are still quite clear to him as he half listens to Cathy telling Stuart to back off once again. Hank has to smile to himself after spending the afternoon with Stuart not so subtly making sure he was between Hank and Amanda at every possible moment and this is what has set Cathy on her husband again with threats promising many cold, lonely nights on the couch if he messes this up for Amanda.

"They didn't answer right away when I called them," Stuart hisses, reminding her about Hank and Amanda's disappearance into the woods that morning. "I had to call them _three_ times before they put in an appearance_and_ he was _carrying_ her over his shoulder."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Stuart, what were they going to do out there?" Cathy demands quietly. "It was thirty-something degrees out there this morning. If they did anything more than making out, they would have been freezing off body parts."

Any response the man may have is interrupted by the sound of a door quietly opening at the top of the stairs. Hank eagerly turns his attention back up those steps and he feels the air go rushing out of his lungs at the sight before him.

_Mate_, Beast whines plaintively.

Hank can't even begin to think of a response as he stares at the vision before him. The black crushed velvet skirt and long sleeved button up blouse show off every curve that that the bulky sweaters she's been wearing she's been wearing the past couple of days have hidden and the green of the blouse makes her eyes seem even brighter. He doesn't miss the fact that his present to her sits gleaming against her smooth, creamy skin in the 'V' of the blouse and it warms his heart to see her wearing it so proudly. Her hair is pulled up into a loose bun on top of her head with a few curling tendrils framing her face, not that he really notices her hair since it's her neck that has been covered by turtleneck tops which he's finally able to see that has his undivided attention and the urge to start kissing that part of her body becomes almost overwhelming.

"I'd ask if you liked how I did my hair and makeup, but I don't think your eyes have gotten past my neck yet," she teases as she makes her way down the stairs.

"You are a vision of loveliness, my dear," he softly assures her while he holds out a hand for her to take.

She gladly slips her hand into his and allows him to escort her down the last few steps where he pulls her into his arms.

"After everyone is asleep, I will come for you," he whispers into her ear and he nearly purrs when he feels her body shiver against his as she takes a deep shuddering breath.

He reluctantly steps away from her when he hears her parents moving towards them and stares mesmerized into her eyes. When her parents step into the hallway, they find the couple standing there, holding hands and gazing into each others eyes. Cathy's breath catches in her throat and she goes all teary eyed at the sight before her while Stuart's back goes ramrod straight as he feels his overprotective nature take over. He goes to break the couple up only to be yanked back by his arm. He turns to look at his wife only to meet those piercing green eyes and he matches her glare for glare.

"If you two are through glaring daggers at each other, perhaps we should get going," Amanda suggests several moments later.

Cathy and Stuart turn their attention back down the hallway and see Hank helping Amanda into her coat. Stuart casts a disapproving look at Hank's jeans, boots and sweater, but says nothing.

"I must apologize for my attire," Hank states as he gets his own coat on. "When I packed for my trip I did not anticipate having to dress nicely."

"Amanda didn't tell you we attend church?" Stuart asks, confused and more than a bit miffed.

"Oh, she told me, but you see, I wasn't originally planning on coming to Virginia for the winter holidays," Hank explains while he slips on his custom made gloves. "I was all set to go to Vermont when I learned of Amanda's dilemma and I could do nothing else but assist her in any way that I could."

"My knight in shining blue fur," Amanda softly chuckles and he captures one of her hands before she can put her gloves on and kisses the back of it causing her to blush a bright red.

"As I hope to ever be for you," he quietly replies after he reluctantly releases her hand.

"I'm a bit confused," Cathy states as she wraps a scarf around her neck. "You were all packed to go to Vermont when you got Amanda's call?"

"Oh, Amanda never called me," Hank tells her while the front door is opened and they quickly hustle out of the house. "You see, I had arrived at her place just before I headed out of town to drive her to the train station when I found her distressed about her situation. I could hardly call myself worthy of her attentions if I didn't offer whatever assistance that I could."

"So you just gave up your trip to Vermont so you could drive her all the way down here," Stuart states suspiciously.

"Well, I must admit, I did have an ulterior motive," Hank admits as they pile into Stuart and Cathy's car with Hank in the front passenger seat.

"Oh?" Stuart asks, trying to keep the disapproval out of his voice and doing a poor job of it.

"You see, Amanda has told me such wondrous tales of her family that I was very anxious to meet all of you," Hank tells him while Stuart starts the car.

"What in the world did you tell him?" Cathy asks her daughter as Stuart pulls out of the driveway.

"Only the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God," Amanda replies with right hand raised. "I even told him about the 'Doug incident' to try and dissuade him."

"And you still wanted to meet us after hearing about that fiasco?" Stuart questions Hank. "You're either the bravest man I've ever met or the craziest."

"We'll know the answer to that by the end of the week, won't we?" Hank chuckles and the others laugh along with him.

The rest of the drive is spent with Hank regaling them with some of his more memorable Christmas memories as he studiously ignores Beast whining for its mate.

* * *

They get to the church about half an hour later and no sooner does Hank step out of the car then he's dragged away by the twins. Amanda and her parents follow after them at a more sedate pace while Hank is given a whirlwind introduction to Mike's rather sizable family. Once that's done, the girls proudly march into the church with poor Hank still in tow and a quick glance over his shoulder shows him that his beloved girlfriend has a huge grin on her face with probably no intention of saving him.

As soon as they step through the doors, silence spreads through the room like ripples in a pond from a dropped stone. People turn to see what all the silence about and more than a few jaws drop open as the twins proudly drag Hank down the main aisle like a pair of fishermen with their prize catch. While Hank, Amanda's family and Mike's family are getting situated in a couple of rows worth of pews, rapid whispering can be heard throughout the fairly large church.

Hank finds himself seated between the twins as a program is handed to him by one of the girls and he quickly looks around to find Amanda. Much to his disappointment, he finds her at the far end of the pew, near the outside aisle. She looks over at him and gives him a sad smile and a little wave before stripping off her outer garments. A flash of gold as she shrugs out of her coat brings a smile to his own lips, happy that she's wearing the necklace for the entire world to see.

He contemplates joining her, but before he can get to his feet, he's drawn into a conversation with Mike's mother. By the time he's able to end their little talk, everyone has taken their seats and Father Clancy has stepped out onto the dais to start services. Fighting back his disappointment and a cranky Beast, he turns his attention to the front of the church.

The service is filled with laughter and singing and Hank can understand why Cathy and Stuart attend this church. The natural charisma of the priest coupled with the man's joy of doing a job he obviously loves make for a very compelling service. It seems no time has passed at all when the candles start to be handed out and once they've been distributed, he sees Amanda rise and make her way to the front of the church.

He watches her intently as she makes her journey, barely even aware when someone lights his candle for him or that everyone else is singing 'O Holy Night'. He can't pull his eyes away from her while she closes her eyes, takes a deep calming breath and then lets it out as she stands up a little bit straighter. With head held high, she steps up onto the dais and takes her place behind the microphone that other performers have been using all evening.

Father Clancy lights Amanda's candle himself as the lights are lowered and then whispers something in her ear which causes her to smile like she's fighting back a laugh. Hank can see her glance his way and then watches in amusement as her cheeks turn a much brighter pink then can be blamed on the makeup on her face. A second later the harpist starts to play making Amanda becomes all business again as she looks out over the crowd before her, staring at some unknown spot over their heads and then she opens her mouth to sing.

"_Ave Maria  
gratia plena  
dominus tecum  
benedicta tu  
in mulieribus  
et benedictus  
fructus ventris  
tui Jesus_

_Sancta Maria  
Sancta Maria  
Maria_

_ora pro nobis  
nobis peccatoribus  
nunc et in hora  
in hora mortis nostrae_

_Sancta Maria  
Sancta Maria  
Maria_

_ora pro nobis  
nobis peccatoribus  
nunc et in hora  
in hora mortis nostrae  
amen amen"_

As the last notes fade away, Father Clancy once more commands everyone's attention while Amanda quietly leaves the dais to retake her seat. Hank never even notices as he's too busy replaying every second of her song in his head, committing it to memory.

_Mate_, Beast whispers and Hank has to beat back the urge to go to her and then taker her someplace to make love to her for the rest of the night.

_Soon, Beast,_ Hank assures it. _Soon_.


	60. Confessions

**Author's Notes**: I forgot to mention last chapter that if you want to hear what the song Amanda sang, go to YouTube and type in 'Celtic Woman Ave Maria'. While I don't think Amanda is as good as the lady singing the song, she's somewhat close. A quick reminder, killing the author will result in this story never being finished. A big thank you to my reviewers: Takerslady, LifeBringsMeOnlyTears, SparrowsVixon, nightangelx18, theNightEnchantress, LovelyLadyJem, dog youkai jane, Sourceress Eternity and Mythigal. You guys are the best.

* * *

He's officially lost count of how many hands he's shaken, but he's fairly sure that he's been greeted by everyone who attended the service and he's beginning to suspect that a few may have just wandered in off of the street. It's even getting to the point to where he's wondering if they're just reproducing at an extraordinary rate. As he shakes yet another hand, he glances over and sees that he's almost to his goal.

He notes that she's not having much better luck as people walk up to her and greet her, taking time to congratulate her on her performance and to do a quick catch up with her. While a smile is plastered to her face, he can see that the late hour and the stress of trying to get out of there are beginning to show, at least to him. When a particularly handsome young man stops to talk to her, he can feel Beast take notice and when she laughs at something the stranger says, it tries to take over.

_My Mate,_ Beast growls, fighting for dominance.

_Calm yourself,_ Hank tells it. _We will be with her soon._

This does anything but placate the snarling Beast and Hank redoubles his efforts to get to their lady and mate before his primal half can give him a headache. He finally reaches her side just as the young man leaves and Hank can hear Beast hissing and snapping at the retreating back. Controlling the urge to roll his eyes, he instead turns his attention to the beautiful lady before him.

"That was quite lovely, my dear," he tells her while he zips up his coat. "I've never heard that version of Ave Maria before."

"Thank you, Hank," she replies with a grateful smile as she gets her gloves on just before they step outside the church. "It's by Charles Gounod. Most people know the one by Franz Schubert, but I find that one's been done to death and it's a bit higher in pitch than I can comfortably sing. It looks like it's about to snow again."

"That will be nice," he says while he looks at the dark sky above them. "It just doesn't seem like Christmas without a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. Of course, it will make it rather difficult if you plan to come back to church later this morning."

"No," she laughs as the rest of her family joins them. "Getting the kids away from the Christmas tree on Christmas morning is a feat even Hercules would blanch at doing. Midnight mass is good enough in our book."

"Mom, can Hank come home with us?" Bethany asks as she grabs one of Hank's hands.

"Yes, please, can he, Mom?" Beverly adds while she latches onto Hank's other hand.

Hank quickly looks over at Amanda for help and much to his chagrin; he sees her trying to hide her smile behind her hand. He narrows his eyes at her and she has to turn away so that he can't see her laughing, though he can hear the barely contained snickers. He has no choice but to turn his attention back down to the grinning girls clinging to him with all of their might.

_Cubs,_ Beast states suddenly and Hank just barely manages not to roll his eyes.

_Yes, they're cubs,_ Hank patiently confirms.

"I think it's best to let Hank go back with Grandma and Grandpa," Mike calmly tells the twins and quickly continues at the look of their crestfallen faces. "It's been a long day for everyone and you two need to calm down. Besides, Hank's probably quite tired and he doesn't need you two jumping on him all the way back to your grandparents' place."

"Aww, but Dad…," Bethany starts to whine.

"Why don't I escort you two charming young ladies to your car and then maybe later today I could read to you from the lovely book your aunt gave me for Christmas," Hank suggests.

"What book is that?" Beverly asks as he starts to head towards the minivan they came in with the rest of the family trailing behind them.

"**The Adventures of Tom Sawyer**," he answers.

"Isn't that a book that was written a really long time ago?" Bethany questions.

"Yes, it was," he confirms. "It was written a very, _very_ long time ago."

"You mean like when Grandpa was a kid?" Bethany asks.

"Thanks a lot," Stuart mutters under his breath.

"Even before your great-grandfather was a kid," Hank tells her with a smile.

"Wow," Beverly breathes as they reach the vehicle.

"Ok, gang, everybody in," Mike announces while he uses the remote to unlock the doors and open the sliding door.

Before the girls can start to whine, Hank easily lifts the two of them up into the vehicle with squeals of laughter before stepping back to allow Paul through. As the boy slips past his aunt, he pauses and looks up at her.

"Aunt Amy?" Paul says as he stares at the place several inches below her collar bone, right where the pendent lies hidden beneath her coat.

"Yes?" Amanda replies.

"Where did you get your necklace?" Paul asks, his eyes still glued to that spot.

"That was my Christmas gift to her," Hank answers as he moves beside her.

"You gave her a gold necklace for Christmas?" Cathy excitedly questions.

"I needed to get something lovely for such a lovely lady," Hank tells the older woman while staring at Amanda who's cheeks suddenly become a much brighter shade of pink.

A grin stretches across Cathy's face like someone's told her that she's just won the lottery, Stuart scowls and Amanda makes a small sound that's something between a whimper and a moan.

"Ok, sir," Mike says as he puts his hand on Paul's back and starts pushing the boy towards the car. "Now that you've embarrassed your aunt, please get into the car. I can hear my pillow calling me from here."

Paul allows his father to herd him into the car, but continues to stare at his aunt with a slight frown on his face. Amanda has a strange look across her visage in response and to Hank's eyes it looks to be something between confusion and worry. He briefly glances at Annie and all thoughts of Amanda and Paul are temporarily forgotten.

The woman is obviously upset, but it's her eyes that have his undivided attention. Even though the lighting is fairly poor, her pupils haven't widened like everyone else's has. Hank tries to think back to every time he's seen her and whether or not he's seen her pupils any other size then they are now.

"Hank, are you coming with us or going with them?" Stuart asks, drawing Hank away from his musings.

Hank turns to see that Stuart, Cathy and Amanda are already by the car and are waiting for him.

"Coming," Hank responds as he heads towards them.

Stuart starts the vehicle as soon as they're all in and then turns the heat up before heading out onto the road.

"You know, I didn't get a good look at that necklace earlier," Cathy happily states, looking over at her daughter who tries not to cringe. "You'll have to show it to me when we get home."

"It's just a necklace, Mom, not an engagement ring," Amanda grumbles as she leans her head against the headrest and closes her eyes.

"Macy's is having a huge after Christmas sale tomorrow," Cathy announces, completely changing the subject. "You simply have to come with Annie and me this year."

"Sure," Amanda yawns as she gets more comfortable and the smile on Cathy's face widens into a huge grin. "But I'm not stepping foot one into the china or crystal departments so you can just forget about looking at patterns."

"Why in the world would I want to look at china patterns?" Cathy asks, trying to hide the crestfallen look on her face. "Annie and I already have all the china we can use. We're going for the after Christmas sale."

"Keep telling yourself that, Mom," Amanda quietly mumbles as she relaxes, fully prepared to let the soft purr of the motor and gentle vibrations of the car lull her to sleep.

Cathy slumps down into a pout and Hank nervously glances at Amanda, worried that maybe she's forgotten his promise to come for her later. Knowing that there's no way to talk to her about it with her parents there, he turns back around and watches the Christmas lights go by as they drive through the mostly deserted town. He's so absorbed in his own thoughts that he never notices the suspicious glances cast in his direction by the driver of the car.

* * *

"For Heaven's sake, Stuart, where are you going?" Cathy groggily asks.

"I'm just going to check something," he answers while he finishes tying his robe shut and then puts his hand on the door. "Go to sleep."

"Stuart David Simon get your butt back in this bed this instant or so help me you'll be spending a month on the couch," she hisses as she props herself up on her elbow.

"But…," he starts.

"No 'buts'," she growls. "Enough already. It's not like he's going to sneak into her bedroom and so they can start going at it like a couple of rabbits. Now give it a rest and get back in bed."

"Did you see the way he was looking at her when she was singing?" he demands, still not moving from his spot by the door.

"He looked like a man who's fallen head over heels in love," she gentle tells him. "Amy's finally found someone who truly cares for her, but she's not going to be able to keep him if you chase him away. Now, please, come back to bed."

"I just want to…," he tries to tell her.

"You are not going out there and making sure he's still in his bed," she warns. "If you do, I'll lock you out without so much as a pillow."

"I know where you keep the extras," he shoots back and she smirks.

"Yeah, in the room Hank is sleeping in," she replies smugly. "Do you really want to explain to the US Ambassador to the UN why you're getting a pillow and some blankets out of the closet?"

"I suppose telling you that I'm just going to get a glass of water isn't going to cut it, is it?" he asks a few seconds later.

"Nope," she answers. "Now please come to bed. It's getting cold without you beside me."

With a sigh of defeat, he takes his bathrobe off and climbs into bed where he finds his wife waiting for him with open arms.

"I distinctly remember a certain young man who drove my father to his wits end back when I was sweet young thing," she purrs as she snuggles up to him.

"I wasn't that bad," he grumbles while he holds her close.

"According to my father, you were the worst," she chuckles as she nuzzles his ear. "According to him you could never seem to keep your hands to yourself. He threatened to pepper your hide with rock salt more than once as I recall."

"I'd do it all again in a heartbeat," he groans while she starts to nibble on his ear and his hands start to roam over her body. "As I recall, you weren't all that innocent yourself, little missy."

"No, I wasn't," she snickers as she starts to kiss his neck. "I've learned a few things since then too."

"Show me," he moans just before he rolls towards her and captures her mouth with his own.

* * *

Hank lets out a sigh of relief when he hears his hosts starting to enjoy each other's company and he goes to get up. So intent was his focus on the couple in the next room that he didn't notice the cats joining him in his bed again and now he's faced with a bit of a dilemma. Lying in the center of his broad chest like a giant fuzzy meatloaf is a big orange cat who's staring at him as if to dare him to make it move.

"Excuse me, cat, but I need you to get off of me now," he whispers.

The cat just glares back at him, unblinking, with a look on its face as if to say, 'Don't even think about it, Blue Boy.'

Knowing that frightening the animal may alert its owners that he's not asleep, he lies there staring at it, willing it to get up and move. Much to his disconcertment, the cat simply makes itself more comfortable and then closes its eyes. A low, frustrated growl emanates from Hank's chest and the cat's eyes fly open in surprise.

The glare the cat gives him is rather startling at first, but Hank is not about to disappoint his lady fair because of an overgrown puffball who can't seem to take a hint and that's when the battle of wills begins.

* * *

She lies there, staring into the darkness as her nerves keep her wide awake. He promised to come to her once everyone was asleep and her father did a final bed check over half an hour ago. She wonders if he's forgotten or if he himself has fallen asleep while waiting for the others to doze off.

Maybe he thinks she's forgotten because he saw her getting ready for bed with her pajamas and robe already on. She remembers the slightly worried look on his face, but she gave him a quick wink to assure him that she was just putting on a show for her parents. She hopes that he saw it and understood and didn't think she just had a muscle spasm or something like that.

She glances at the clock again and with a sad sigh, she throws back the covers. She gets out of bed and starts to get her pajamas out from under the bed where she had hidden them along with the screen from her window. She tries not to let her disappointment overwhelm her as reaches for the buttons on her sweater.

_TAP! TAP! TAP!_

She gasps as her heart starts to pound in her chest and she barely remembers to pull the covers over the pile of clothes in her bed before she all but flies to the window. She slaps the heavy curtains out of the way in her haste to get to the glass and sees almost nothing. With the clouds obstructing the light of the moon and her lights off, she can barely see the shadow of the elm tree outside her window. With a sigh of disappointment, she figures it was just one of the branches hitting her window and she starts to turn away.

From the corner of her eye she sees the tree's shadow move unnaturally and she quickly turns back for a better look, nearly getting a crick in her neck when she does. The shadow continues to move and eventually it takes on a very familiar shape. She bites her lip to keep from crying out her relief and joy of seeing him, knowing that he hadn't forgotten or fallen asleep.

She quickly opens the window, ignoring the blast of cold air that hits her in the face, glad that she's at least wearing a heavy sweater over her blouse and he reaches his hand out for her. She grabs his hand and he starts to pull her towards him. She resists him, not sure what he has in mind and he moves closer to her.

"Trust me," he whispers, continuing to gently pull on her hand.

"You, I trust," she hisses back as she hesitantly puts her foot on the windowsill. "It's the tree I'm not so sure about."

"It will hold our weight," he softly assures her as he guides her arm around his neck.

She's not sure if the shiver that runs down her spine is caused by her nervousness or the bitterly cold wind blowing up her skirt, but she puts her trust in him and climbs out the window into his waiting arms. He quickly closes the window as soon as she's through and then holds her close as she wraps her legs around his waist. He takes a moment to make sure that they have a firm grip on each other and to rub his cheek against hers.

She holds him tighter when she feels his muscles start to tense and a moment later she can feel him leap into the air. She buries her face into his neck as the adrenaline rush kicks in and she just barely manages not to cry out. Once they're back on solid ground, another shiver runs down her spine and he gives her a gentle squeeze as he kisses her hair.

"Hold on tight," he quietly instructs.

Before she can ask why, he's running through the night at speeds a world class sprinter wouldn't stand a chance of keeping up with. His arms hold her close and his body moves against hers as he dashes across the yard. She feels the rush as more adrenaline pumps through her veins and at the same time, her body is starting to respond to his, aching for him to do more than just hold her.

Suddenly he stops and she can hear him opening the side door on the barn. She looks up as he steps into the building, closing the door behind them and it's even darker here than it had been outside. She goes to put her legs down, but he still has a tight hold on her and so she just holds onto him.

"I can't see a thing," she whispers after he's been moving forward for a bit.

"I know, that's why I'm carrying you," he softly admits as he nuzzles her hair.

She lets out a quiet moan as she rubs her face in his neck fur and her fingers sink into his mane. He groans when her nails reach his skin and he's barely able to walk straight as she starts to place kisses on his neck. He just manages to catch himself against the wall when she nips his jaw and then starts nibbling at his ear. A possessive growl escapes his throat as she continues to assault his senses and he can feel Beast start to try to take control.

"Amanda," he pants, his knees threatening to give out as she grinds her hips into his, barely missing his growing erection.

"I told you this would be torture," she softly reminds him just before her tongue starts to trace the outside of his ear.

"Amanda, I love you, but you must stop tormenting me before we get to our destination," he gasps, trembling with the effort to stay upright.

She goes perfectly still and at first he's glad she's listened to him, but then he realizes that she's barely breathing.

"Do you mean that?" she asks in a barely audible whisper. "Do you really love me? Or are you just saying that so I'll stop?"

"I mean it," he tells her as he holds her closer. "I didn't mean to say it that way to you. I know we've only known each other a short while but my affection for you is quite genuine. You must think me quite the cad for just blurting it out like that and I'm sorr…"

"You're rambling," she points out, her fingers resting on his lips.

"Am I?" he questions as soon as her fingers drop away. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to start rambling. I don't normally ramble. I'm usually very calm and level headed…"

"You're rambling again," she tells him as soon as her finger on his lips silences him.

"Sorry," he mumbles around her finger.

"I'm going to kiss you now," she informs him. "Is that alright?"

She can feel him nod and she slides her fingers across his cheek as her nose bumps into his. He's fairly sure his heart is going to explode out of his chest any second and he can feel her hands caressing his face, causing a shiver to run down his spine. In a small corner of his brain he's mentally kicking himself for telling her his feelings in such a callous way, but then her warm breath ghosts over his lips and anything that resembles coherent thought stops.

"I love you, too," she whispers just before she presses her lips to his.


	61. Merry Christmas pt 1

**Author's Notes I**: Sorry for the delay, but with the holidays, life got a little too insane. Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers: LifeBringsMeOnlyTears, theNightEnchantress, LovelyLadyJem, Mythigal, SparrowsVixon, dog youkai jane, nightangelx18, Takerslady and Jinx of the 2nd Law. You guys are the greatest.

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It takes several moments for her words to penetrate his befuddled brain and when it does, she suddenly finds herself with her back pressed against the rough wood of the barn wall. His tongue invades her mouth and she moans with her need for him as all of the right parts of her body start heat up while her fingers sink into his mane. One of his hands sneaks up her skirt and he groans when he discovers that she's wearing the thigh high stockings again and a scrap of lace posing as her panties.

With a great deal of effort, he breaks off their kiss and then pushes himself away from the wall with her still firmly in his arms while she rains kisses along his jaw to his ear. He staggers further into the darkness, the smell of her arousal and his quickly growing erection make it damn well near impossible to walk. By some miracle, they finally make it to their destination without him tripping and he slowly sinks down to his knees.

He carefully lies her down in the soft nest he's made and only then does she loosen her hold on him with her legs, but she still has her fingers buried deep into his mane. He goes back to kissing her voraciously as his nimble fingers begin to work on the buttons of her sweater. Once the buttons are out of the way, she groans as his hands start to caress her body through her blouse and her own hands start to explore whatever she can reach on him.

He finally releases her lips and starts to work his way across her jaw to her ear and neck. She moans his name as she works at pulling his sweater further up his body. She just manages to pull it and the shirt underneath up enough for her questing hands to find him when he starts to unbutton her blouse.

She gasps as the cold air hits her bare skin, but soon his warm breath is caressing the area and his lips hungrily nibbling away at the exposed flesh. She pants between mewls as she squirms underneath him, going crazy with her need for him and when he finds his present to her still around her neck, he nearly loses it. It takes every bit of will power he owns, but he refuses to let Beast take over so it can slake its carnal lust. He's determined to please his lady love to the utmost and no snarling Beast is going to stop him

As soon as the last button is taken care of, his hands explore and caress her soft skin and then gently cup her satin covered breasts. His thumbs carefully run circles around her nipples, getting them almost painfully hard and nearly driving her out of her mind with want. He finds the front clasp of her bra and easily undoes it, covering those wonderful soft globes with his hands as soon as they're free of their imprisonment.

He kisses his way down her front until he's between her breasts, shifting himself so there's less of him for her to reach and she's all but clawing at his sweater as she writhes underneath him. His lips find their way to one of her nipples and the only reason she doesn't sit upright is because his weight is holding her down. He slides one of his hands up her skirt again and he plays havoc with her sanity as his finger tips gently outline her panties while his lips and tongue suck and lick the little pink bud on her chest.

Mindful of his nails, he slips his hand between her legs and starts to rub her clit with his knuckles through her already damp underwear. She lets out a strangled inarticulate cry and then starts to grind herself into delightful digits as her fingers dig into his sweater. He flicks her nipple with his tongue while he continues his assault on that sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs and a few moments later her body arches into him and she tries to hold back her scream through clenched teeth.

She collapses into a boneless heap beneath him, her fingers loosening their hold on his sweater and he can feel her panties become drenched from her release. The smell of her almost overwhelms him and he rests his forehead between her breasts as he fights Beast for control. His breath heats her belly as he trembles with the effort and he's barely aware of her stroking the back of his head.

"I love you," she whispers, her weariness evident in her voice.

"No falling asleep on me, my love," he warns as he lifts his head up to look up at her face, though it's pretty much impossible with the lack of light. . "I'm not done with you yet."

"Then you better find some way of keeping me awake," she teases as her wicked fingers caress his ear causing a shiver to run down his spine

"As my lady love commands," he purrs as he moves up her body until they're face to face.

It takes him a couple of tries to fully find her lips which has her snickering at him and he playfully nips her bottom lip. He hears her sharply take in air and a second later he feels her fingers sinking into the fur on his exposed midriff. A small, possessive growl escapes his throat just before his lips crash down onto hers and she eagerly responds to him.

The kisses become more heated as he collects her into his arms and her hands travel down to his hips. He grinds his hardness into her as her hands grab hold of his denim covered backside and they both moan. Her need to touch more of him drives her fingers to finding his waistband and sneaking under it which causes him to groan as he breaks off their kiss.

"Ammmandaaaa," he moans as her fingers find the button to his jeans.

"Please tell me you have a condom hidden somewhere or we're both going to be very frustrated," she practically begs while she loosens the fastenings on his pants and he groans in relief.

"P-p-p-pants pocket," he stammers just before she reaches into his jeans. "GAH!"

"That's good to hear," she purrs as she starts to frisk his pockets with her free hand, her other hand occupied with holding onto his silk covered turgid length.

"Wanton little minx," he playfully snarls just before he starts nibbling on her ear.

"Only for you," she groans as the ability to coherently think begins to leave her.

He continues his assault on her senses as he frees one of his arms and then retrieves the condom and lube from her now nerveless fingers. He unwillingly pulls away from her, causing her to whimper in protest and he silences her with a kiss. He gently removes her hand from his erection and then pushes the unopened condom into it.

While her brain tries to kick back into gear and figure out what she's supposed to be doing, he quickly pushes his pants and boxer shorts off of his hips and down to his thighs. Just as he's completing his task, she removes the prophylactic from it's little foil wrapper and he guides her hand to where it needs to go. She manages to get it right the first time and it easily slides down his length causing him to moan as a shiver runs down his spine.

"My panties…," she starts as he pushes the lube into her hand.

"Allow me," he purrs.

His hands find their way under her already hiked up skirt, caressing her legs as he goes. She can't think straight and when his fingers find her undies, she automatically lifts her hips to help him. But instead of pulling the lacy item of clothing down, he leans down and licks a nipple, causing her to gasp.

"My apologies," he whispers as he takes a hold of her panties.

"Hank, don't you…" she starts, but it's too late.

With one deft yank, he tears her underwear off of her and he can feel her glare even if he can't really see it.

"That's two you owe me," she growls, trying to ignore the fact that her body got excited by his act.

"I'll buy you a whole warehouse full if it means I can keep doing that," he murmurs against her breast as her aroused scent nearly drives him over the edge.

Before she can answer, her nipple is in his mouth and she grabs a hold of the back of his head, arching into his lips. He gently takes the lube bottle from her again and finishes getting himself ready as he works at getting her hornier than she ever thought she could be. Once he's ready, he solidly makes sure Beast is put in its place and then positions himself at her opening.

"Hank," she whimpers while he starts to kiss his way up her body. "Please."

"Please what?" he softly teases as gently nudges the tip of his cock until it's just inside her lower lips.

"Please," she begs while her legs wrap around his hips, trying to push him in the rest of the way. "Make love to me."

"As my lady love commands," he whispers in her ear and then slides the rest of the way in.

"Oh God, yes," she gasps as he fully sheaths himself inside of her.

He sets a delightfully slow and torturous pace that has her writhing beneath him. She grabs a hold of his shoulders as he continues to drive her crazy with his sedate love making and tries to encourage him to go faster. Unfortunately, a good part of his concentration is on Beast and keeping it contained, so he's unaware of her growing frustration until she nips him rather painfully on the jaw.

That split second of distraction is all Beast needs and it leaps forward to seize control, leaving a startled Hank in its wake. Hank tries to wrest back control, but Beast's hold is too firm and all he can do is watch as the woman he loves responds to Beast's aggressive ways.

Beast sets an insane pace as his arms wrap around her and holds her close while she pants with her mouth wide open, trying not to yell with pleasure. Her fingernails painfully dig into his shoulders which cause him to start possessively nipping her neck and shoulder. With every little bite, she can feel herself getting closer to that delightful precipice. When his teeth hit a sensitive nerve on her neck, she goes flying over the edge and she can't stop the scream, so to muffle it, she bites down on his shoulder…hard.

He slams into her one more time before his teeth sink into her shoulder and roars his completion into the sweater that she's still wearing. A secondary orgasm hits her like a tidal wave and she shrieks as her body shakes with its force and she bites down so hard that her jaws and teeth hurt. The muscles in his jaw constrict further and she lets out a whimper as she lets go of him.

"Mine," he rumbles deep in his throat as soon as he releases her shoulder.

"Yes, Beast, I'm yours," she whispers as she wraps her arms around his neck, despite them feeling like their made out of lead.

He makes a noise that distinctly sounds like a purr as he starts to lick her neck where he had nipped her and she rubs her face against his.

"Give me back Hank now, please," she softly requests in his ear.

A moment later his body shakes violently and she holds him closer. He takes a great gasp of air that sounds almost like a sob and he starts to pull away. She holds on even tighter with her arms and her legs despite her exhaustion.

"Please don't pull away," she begs.

"Amanda…," he nearly cries, sounding absolutely miserable.

"I love you," she reminds him as she starts to rub her cheek against his again. "All of you, both man and Beast. Please, don't leave me."

"I bit you again," he points out in an agonized tone of voice.

"Only after I bit you," she counters as she moves his head so that his forehead is resting on hers. "And yes, you bit me the first time we made love, I know that. Look at it this way, at least I had a little bit of protection with my sweater still on and it was the other shoulder you bit last time."

"Still…," he tries to argue.

"I could hardly call myself worthy of your attentions if I only loved certain aspects of you and not others," she interrupts and he sighs.

"Am I going to so much as get a word in edgewise?" he teases, feeling himself slightly relax as she gently strokes his mane.

"I believe you got several in right there," she points out, laughter evident in her voice.

"Willful little minx," he mutters as he gently pulls away and this time she lets him.

"Yes, but I'm your willful little minx," she shoots back with a chuckle as she quickly fastens her bra and then closes up her blouse and sweater, trying to ignore how incredibly cold it is in the drafty old barn.

"That you most definitely are," he purrs just before he kisses the tip of her nose and then moves completely off of her.

She buttons up her top as quickly as she can, but the combination of the cold, late hour and their recent activities has her hands trembling in no time. She can hear him moving around next to her while she pushes her skirt back down and she can't suppress the shiver that runs through her body when a gust of wind hits the barn and blows through every nook and cranny of the building. She manages to keep her teeth from chattering by clamping her jaw shut, but no matter how hard she tries, she can't stop the shaking in the rest of her body.

A few moments later he wraps something around her and then he lies down next to her, pulling her down into his embrace. She doesn't object as she snuggles up to his warmth, sliding a cold hand under his sweater that's once again back where it belongs along with the rest of his clothes. He doesn't object when her cool digits bury themselves into the fur on his belly, though she does hear him take a sharp breath. She can't help but smile and then sigh as he vigorously rubs his hands over her in an attempt to get her warmer.

"I was worried that you weren't going to come for me," she softly admits several minutes later.

"Well, first I had to wait for your father to stop coming in to check on me to make sure I was still in bed," he tells her, shifting around to get more comfortable. "Fortunately, your mother was finally able to distract him. Of course, as soon as his attention was elsewhere, I found myself with a bit of a dilemma."

"What was that?" she asks sleepily.

"One of your parent's cats had decided that the middle of my chest was the best place to sleep for the night," he grumbles.

"What color?" she yawns.

"It was a bit hard to tell, but I believe it was orange," he answers.

"Well, since Eddie is a scaredy cat and hardly ever comes out from under my parent's bed or out of their closet, it was probably his brother, Siegfried," she tells him. "I bet he was quite indignant when you finally got him to move."

"That he was," he quietly chuckles and then sighs. "I truly believe if cats could talk, he would have had several nasty things to say about my parentage. We should get back soon."

"I know, but this is the first time we've been truly alone for more than two days and I'm not really interested in letting it end," she sadly sighs.

"I feel the same way, but the weather is only going to get colder and if we wait too long someone is bound to notice our absence," he says and she just buries her face in his chest. "Come, my lady love, it is time to go back."

He stands up and she grumbles in protest to losing his heat and the wonderful feeling of his arms around her. She puts up a token fight when he goes to help her up and he chuckles as he easily lifts her up onto her feet and then into his arms. She gladly buries her face into the soft fur on his neck and sighs contentedly as he rubs her back, happy to have found someone like her to share his life with.

"Wait here," he instructs as he steps away. "I need to set things back to the way they were. I should be but only a few minutes."

He guides her hand over to the wall and then goes off to put everything back the way it had been. She listens to him go and then starts running her hands over the wood, trying to figure out where they are. When she encounters another wall that joins the one she's next to that only comes up to just below her breasts, she knows exactly where they are.

"I can't believe that we just made love in one of the stalls," she mutters quietly.

"I figured it would give us a bit more protection from the cold air and prying eyes should anyone come out here, unlikely though it may seem," he tells her as he shifts something rather large.

"What were we lying on?" she asks.

"An old mattress," he answers and she can hear his voice coming from up above. "There were also some rather warn blankets as well. Your parents have quite the treasure trove of items up here. I even found a small heater, but I couldn't figure out how to set it up without causing a fire hazard."

"When did you get all of this stuff set up?" she questions, amazed by his ingenuity.

"While you and your parents were sleeping," he replies and she can hear him lightly land nearby.

"You're a very sneaky man, Ambassador," she teases as he wraps his arms around her.

"I look at it as being resourceful," he chuckles while he nuzzles her hair and then his voice drops down into a seductive purr. "And when there's something I _really_ want, I can be _very_ resourceful."

"How are we going to survive the rest of the week?" she sadly inquires as she melts into his embrace. "We shouldn't do this again. It's too easy for someone to find us missing and then go looking for us. Mike wouldn't say anything, but Annie would hold it over us and if either of my parents was to find out…"

"I understand," he assures her while he holds her closer. "If you do not wish for me to come to you during the night, then I will not."

"What I wish is that we could just run away to Vermont and forget about my crazy family," she sighs as she tries to suppress the shiver up her spine caused by an errant breeze up her skirt.

"Come, it's time for us to return to bed," he tells her as he steps away.

"Promises, promises," she mutters and he chuckles while he takes her hand to lead her through the dark.

"In our own beds, my minx," he chuckles and she can't help but grin at him, even if he can't see it.

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**A/N II:** A strange place to leave it, I know, but it was getting way too long. Have a happy and safe New Year's everyone and may the coming year be filled with plenty of love and laughter. 


	62. Merry Christmas pt 2

**Author's Notes:** Sorry this took so long. Real life, coupled with a couple of bad reviews has left my muse in a snit. Thank you Neotoma, Mythigal, theNightEnchantress, nightangelx18, Takerslady, LovelyLadyJem, LifeBringsMeOnlyTears and kudokuchan69 for your kind words. CreedsGalBirdy and Sammet Liselle, you both can just bite me. This chapter has smuty goodness in it. Enjoy!

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"So, what did Mom do to distract Dad from coming and checking up on you?" she inquires after several moments of silence while they slowly make their way through the dark

"Ah, well, how to put this," he responds hesitantly. "She, um, reminded him of when he courted her and how crazy he drove her father."

"So she just talked to him and that kept him from coming and checking on you?" she questions, a bit confused.

"Um, no," he answers and he can feel the blood rushing to his own face. "She, uh, _enticed_ him to come back to bed."

"Enticed him?" she asks, now completely perplexed. "What? Did she have double chocolate brownies in bed with her or something?"

"No, um," he replies so very glad that the darkness hides his embarrassment. "The, ah, treat was, uh, _sexual_ in nature."

She stops dead in her tracks and he has to stop with her or let go of her hand.

"Are you telling me that you listened to my parents having _sex_?" she demands and he can barely see the look of horror on her face, though he can definitely hear it in her voice.

"No, I did manage to get out before they actually started to have intercourse," he quickly answers. "But no thanks to Siegfried, it was a _very_ close thing."

"Oh sweet Jesus!" she says, her voice full of revulsion and her whole body shakes. "UHG!"

"What's the matter?" he asks, slightly amused by her reaction. "They're perfectly healthy couple, why shouldn't they enjoy each other's company in the privacy of their own bedroom?"

"Imagine I just told you that I overheard your parents getting hot and heavy," she retorts and he goes perfectly still.

"Oh my stars and garters," he moans several moments later. "Your point is very well taken. Perhaps it's best we forget we ever had this little conversation."

"Right, we'll just strike it from the record," she grumbles. "URG! That mental image is burned into my brain! I'll probably be having nightmares about it for weeks."

"It's not like you really saw anything," he points out, slightly amused now.

"No, but I have a vivid imagination," she reminds him as she steps closer to him. "Need I remind you about Logan and the skort?"

"No, you don't," he grumbles while he pulls her into his arms. "Perhaps we should just change the subject."

"What should we talk about then?" she asks as she snuggles into his embrace, burying her nose into the fur on his neck until she reaches skin.

"Us?" he suggests, his own nose finding its way into her dark tresses and he inhales deeply.

"How are we going to survive being here?" she nearly whimpers as she presses herself against him. "It's driving me insane with you always there and we can't touch. We can't hold each other. We can't kiss each other. We can't make love."

"I'm here now and we're touching," he whispers near her ear, causing a shiver to run down her spine. "We're holding each other. We're kissing."

He puts a hand under her chin to guide her face towards his and then he gives her a slow, languid kiss that leaves her nearly panting and very aroused. He softly kisses her along her jaw line until he reaches her ear which he gently nuzzles with his nose; the smell of her is making his own body respond. She groans with want when he kisses her neck just below her ear and her body more than willing responds to him, his hand now behind her head to keep it where he wants it.

"We could be making love," he quietly suggests as he pushes his hips forward.

She whimpers when she feels the hardness in his pants as he rubs himself against her and she's fairly sure her knees are about to give out.

"But the condom," she pants, barely coherent enough to string the words together.

He releases her head, moving it to his back pocket and she digs her fingers into his sweater, fearing that he's about to pull away. His lips capture hers again and a small part of her brain is wondering how he's able to find her mouth in the dark while her body is telling it to shut the Hell up. When he finally lets her up for air, she finds he's pressed something into her hand and it takes her several moments to realize what it is.

"You had another condom?" she asks, still dazed as he starts nibbling on her neck.

"Mmhmm," he hums while his lips continue to torment her sanity.

"Why?" she moans.

"In case the first one broke," he purrs just before he starts working on her ear.

"What happens if this one breaks?" she pants as her head lolls to the side and she leans more of her weight against him, sure that her legs are going to give out at any second.

"Let's think positive," he murmurs as his hands start caressing her body, finding all of the right places to make her gasp and moan.

"Should we…," she tries to say, but she's having a really hard time forming words.

"Less talk, more action," he nearly growls as he grabs her hands and pulls them down to his waist band.

She gets the hint and quickly finds the fastening for his pants while his nimble digits start gathering her skirt into his hands and his lips continue their exploration of her neck. Her trembling fingers don't seem to want to work, but by some miracle, she finally gets his pants open and he groans with relief. By the time she's pushed his clothes out of the way, gotten the condom out of its wrapper and managed to actually get it on him, her skirt is up around her hips and his warm hands are caressing the skin of her hips and thighs.

"Lube?" she gasps as his suckles on her earlobe.

"I'll take care of it," he purrs into her ear. "Hold up your skirt."

"Can't, might fall down," she whimpers.

He pushes her back a couple of steps until she is firmly against one of the support beams of the barn. He transfers her hands to her skirt while he quickly finishes preparing himself. Before her lust fogged brain can register how cold it is in the barn now that he's not touching her, he's lifting her up by her hips and pressing her more firmly against that post.

She reaches for him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He carefully moves her into position her over his hard length and once he has her where he wants her, he pushes her down onto him. She lets out a strangled groan as her arms and legs convulsively hold him tighter and she buries her face in his neck.

"Oh God, Hank," she softly moans as her fingers sink into his mane and her ankles cross behind his back.

He takes a step back so he can hold her in his arms more securely with one arm under her bottom and the other behind her back and then he leans against the post again just before he starts to move inside her. His world shrinks down to the feeling of her tight heat, holding him, caressing him, completing him. He groans when her mouth finds his ear, reigning havoc on his senses while she nibbles on it and he can't stop himself as he starts to pound even harder into her.

She moans into his ear as he fills her to near the breaking point and he makes her feel like every nerve in her body is tingling. The feeling of him filling her, caressing her most private parts, completing her and it nearly brings her to tears of happiness. Instead of crying, she moves with him the best she can, trying her best not to scream with the pleasure he's giving her. She soon realizes that she can't keep up with the pace he's set and simply tries to hold herself in a position to get the most pleasure.

"Hank," she softly whimpers as her head comes to rest on his shoulder.

"Right here, my love," he whispers.

He pounds on even harder, her panted moans driving him on and he never wants to stop. He doubts even if her father came charging in with guns blazing that he would even pause his frantic movements, much less stop. He's so lost in the feel of her, the sound of her, the smell of her, that it's not until one of her legs slips off of his hip does he realize that something's wrong.

"Amanda?" he softly calls as he manages to still his hips wild thrusts for fear of coming out of her.

"Hank," she whimpers while her other leg starts to slide down. "I can't…not strong enough."

"Do you want to stop?" he quietly asks as the arm that was under her bottom moves to keep the leg from getting away.

"No, but I can't keep holding onto you," she answers, sounding almost desperate and ideas start running through his mind. "I'm just not strong enough, maybe if I could just lie down or something."

"I have a better idea," he purrs nears her ear as he holds her closer. "Try to lift your leg up again."

She's too tired to question his request so she simply tries to comply and she can feel the arm that was behind her back move downwards while he more firmly pins her to the post. A shiver runs down her spine that has nothing to do with the cold as his warm hands caress her thighs. Soon his forearms are under her thighs and she wonders how this is going to help since she can feel his cock on the verge of slipping out of her.

"Do you trust me?" he whispers near her ear and she can feel her nipples get harder as his breath caresses her ear.

"Yes," she gasps immediately.

"Hold onto my arms," he instructs while he gets a firmer hold of her hips.

She doesn't ask, but simply loosens her hold on his neck and slides her hands down his arms. Before she can even blink, he steps away from the post and turns so that his back is against the post and the upper half of her body is hanging in mid-air. She just manages to choke back a startled cry as her fingers dig through his sweater and into his arms and he gets a better hold of her hips.

Before she can object to the unorthodox position he has her in, he starts to move inside of her again. Her eyes roll back and her fingers dig in deeper into his arms as she lets out a strangled moan of pleasure. Her eyes close and her head drops back as she allows this new angle to take her to new heights.

She's so tight and hot that it's all he can do to keep from using his full strength to pound into her. The new angle isn't helping his sanity either and he's just glad that she's still mostly dressed or all hope would be gone of him being able to control himself. As it is, her nails are digging into his arms and the groans she's trying to suppress mixed with everything else is quickly driving him towards the edge.

He closes his eyes and concentrates on the feeling of their joined bodies as the smell of her and the sounds she's making fill the other senses, driving out anything that might be considered rational thought. He pistons in and out of her like a well oiled machine, determined to satisfy her needs before his body gives into its own. He can feel the familiar tingle at the base of his spine as it quickly travels towards his sack and he starts to lose himself to the sensation just as her vaginal walls grab his swelling cock.

Both of their bodies go stiff as blinding pleasure pulses through their bodies and he can't stop the growl that escapes his throat any more than she can prevent the cry of ecstasy that comes from her mouth. Slowly they come down from their highs and he carefully sinks down to his knees, gathering her limp body up into his arms as best he can. His quickly softening member slips out of her as he repositions her and her whimper is the only clue he has that she's still conscious.

"Are you alright?" he quietly asks once he has her safely in his arms and she makes a small noise that he can't decipher. "Was that a yes or a no?"

"Give me a minute," she whispers as she leans against him like a giant rag doll. "Beast just about broke me in two with that last position."

"Actually, that wasn't Beast's doing," he softly admits, feeling his cheeks heat up. "It was mine."

"Oh?" she asks, amusement evident in her voice.

"Yes, it seems Beast didn't feel like interfering this time," he tells her, incredibly glad that she can't see him blushing.

"Well, it's good to know that you two are finally learning to share," she snickers as she snuggles up more comfortably against him.

He's fairly sure his face is radiating enough warmth to heat up the barn and he gladly buries his nose into her hair while he holds her close, doing his best to ignore the cold air that circulating around his privates. He simply tunes out the discomfort in his knees as he enjoys holding her close, breathing in her scent so that it's the only thing he can smell. He's willing to stay like that for a very long time until she starts shivering and with great reluctance, he loosens his hold on her.

"Come, my love, it's time to go back," he murmurs and she growls at him causing him to chuckle.

"Don't wanna," she grumbles as she pulls her arms in so that they're between their bodies in an effort to get warmer.

"As much as I would love to sit here and hold you all night, I'm afraid certain parts of my anatomy are turning bluer," he tells her.

"What parts?" she asks, still sounding grumpy.

"Parts that I'm sure you would like to remain fully functional," he softly chuckles.

"Huh?" she questions, barely coherent.

He takes one of her hands, gently guiding it downwards into his lap and a second later she grasps.

"Oh, Hank, I'm sorry," she says as she tries to climb off of his lap.

He grabs her by the waist before she can fall and hurt herself and simply picks her up, gently putting her down next to him. He pushes himself to his feet and then fishes a sandwich sized plastic baggie out of his pocket. He carefully opens it and then hands it to her.

"What's this?" she asks as she tries to feel the contents through the sides.

"A garbage bag," he answers while he carefully slides the condom off.

"Ok, I know I'm tired, but I'm pretty sure garbage bags are a bit bigger than this," she states, still befuddled.

"Normally, yes, they are," he assures her as he carefully drops the used prophylactic in the baggie she's holding. "But seeing as I needed something much smaller, I acquired a bag that is more suited to my needs."

"Ok, once more, but in tired girlfriend talk," she grumbles and he chuckles while he pulls his pants back up.

"I got a sandwich bag from the kitchen while you and your parents napped to put the used condoms and wrappers in," he replies as he looks around for the dropped wrapper. "Since I get the distinct impression your parents wouldn't have approved of what we've just done, I have taken steps to try and dispose of any evidence."

"I'm glad you're the one with the brains because I never even thought about it," she softly chuckles while he takes the little bag away from her. "However, I didn't feel my panties in there. What did you do with them?"

"They're prisoners of war," he chuckles in that sexy purr of his as pulls her to her feet.

"So, you've not only ruined my undies, but you've stolen them as well?" she asks, leaning heavily against him and he gladly wraps his arms around her. "That's a bit disturbing you know."

"At least it's only_your_ panties that I'm interested in," he points out as he lifts her up.

"Pervert," she mumbles while she drapes an arm around his neck.

"Yes, but I'm your pervert," he snickers as he gets her more securely held in his arms. "Come, it's time to go back."

"I'm not sure I can hold onto you this time," she warns while he heads for the door.

"Put your arms around my neck and do the best you can," he instructs as he opens the door and a blast of cold air and snow hits them.

She quickly wraps her other arm around his neck and then buries her face into that soft fur as he quietly shuts the door behind them. Once the door is securely closed, he holds her closer as she starts to shiver. He silently thanks his lucky stars that the falling snow will soon cover his tracks as he dashes across the yard towards the elm tree outside her window.

He ignores the bitter sting of the cold snow beneath his bare feet as he takes great leaps towards the house. He doesn't break stride as he approaches the tree he needs, but instead takes a mighty leap towards it, simply catching a lower branch to haul the two of them up with. He quickly and easily climbs up the tree towards her window despite only having the use of one arm as the other one is being used to support her.

With one arm wrapped around her, the other hand holding onto a branch above them and one of his feet firmly holding onto the branch below them, he reaches out with the only limb available and carefully cracks her window open with his foot. He leans forward and lets the warm air rush over him as he inhales deeply, checking to see if anyone is in her room. Once he determines the coast is clear, he opens the window the rest of the way and carefully climbs into her room.

He gives a brief sigh of relief when his bare foot touches the warm carpet under the window as he carefully maneuvers the two of them through the open portal. He tries to hear if anyone else is in the room over the chattering of her teeth as he quietly closes the window. When no other sounds are forthcoming, he gently pushes the curtains open and looks around the room, stopping dead when he sees the human sized lump under the covers.


	63. Merry Christmas pt 3

**Author's Notes:** I now have a rebuttal up on my author's page about those two reviews (you know which two) for those who want to read it. For my Canadian readers, I apologize in advance for the song at the end of this chapter, but you have to admit, it works perfectly. A big thank you to my reviewers kudokuchan69, Jinx of the 2nd Law, theNightEnchantress, Takerslady, Coffeelovr72, SparrowsVixon, Moony, Mythigal and dog youkai jane. You guys always make my day when you review.

* * *

He stands perfectly still, barely daring to breathe with his gaze glued to that lump in the bed. He tries to listen to see if he can here anything coming from the bed, but it's impossible with Amanda's teeth chattering and her dragging in ragged gasps of warm air next to his ear. He holds her shivering body as tightly as he dares so as to share his body heat with her, but it's several minutes before the trembling starts to subside and all the while the form in the bed never moves. 

"Hank," she whispers, exhaustion evident in her voice.

"Bed," he replies quietly, still nervous about the unmoving shape.

"Sounds good," she states very softly.

"Someone's in it," he hisses back.

She makes a noise that almost sounds like a chuckle just before she nuzzles his cheek with her nose.

"Down," she instructs as she starts to try and squirm out of his arms.

He carefully sets her down on her feet and watches with his heart in his throat while she stumbles towards the bed. He gets ready to bolt out the window as she carelessly grabs the covers and flips them back. He stares at what's there for several seconds to make sure he's seeing accurately before he nearly laughs out loud in relief.

With a shake of his furry head and a smile on his blue lips, he goes and helps her remove the dirty clothes she piled into her bed in a vaguely human shape. It takes only a few moments to clear the clothes out of the bed and as soon as they're done, she reaches under the bed, pulling out her pajamas and the screen to the window. He takes the screen and returns it to its proper place as quickly as he can to try and keep the cold air getting in to a minimum.

When he turns around, he can see that she's almost done changing clothes and that she's shivering again. He closes the curtains before returning to her side as she collects her recently shed clothing into her arms. He takes the discarded clothing from her and then gently pushes her towards the bed.

She doesn't need further encouragement and when he returns to the bed to kiss her goodnight, he finds her almost completely covered by the blankets. He can see her shivering even through all of the bedding and it takes him only a moment to make up his mind. He slides into the bed with her, causing her to start and he softly shushes her as he pulls her into his arms.

"I'll go as soon as you're warmed up," he quietly assures her.

She tries to see his face in the darkness, but she can't see anything. With a sigh she relents and slowly relaxes in his arms, her face buried into his shoulder. The day's activities plus the lateness of the night and his warmth have her drifting off to sleep within a few minutes.

He can 'hear' Beast purring in the back of his mind as he rubs his hand up and down her back in an effort to warm her up. All too soon he can feel her body give one final shudder before going completely limp in his arms with a long sigh. He smiles lovingly down at her before gently kissing her forehead and then carefully extracting himself from her and the bed. He ignores Beast's roars of protest as he firmly keeps control of his body so that Beast can't take over and crawl back into bed with her.

He silently leaves the room, intently listening for any unusual sounds as soon as he gets the door cracked open. Once he's sure the coast is clear, he slips out into the hallway and then softly shuts her door. As he heads for his room, he can feel the tension start to leave his shoulders, something he wasn't even aware of having held onto and then he sees the doorknob on Cathy and Stuart's door start to slowly turn.

* * *

Stuart finally manages to get out of bed without waking his wife and he gets dressed as quickly and as quietly as he can. When he's done, he looks down on her sleeping face and he smiles lovingly down at her. He remembers those times when they were dating and doing things they really shouldn't have been doing and then the thoughts of what they were doing a little while ago makes him grin. 

He remembers the nasty looks her father gave him and how hard the man tried to keep an eye on them. He nearly laughs out loud as he thinks of the things they used to do to be alone the many close calls they had. He definitely won't soon be forgetting the day his father-in-law found out Cathy was pregnant with less than a month to go before their wedding and his self righteous anger about the whole situation.

It briefly occurs to him how similar the situations are and then quickly puts it out of his mind. After all, since this is his daughter, it's different.

With one last look at Cathy to make sure she hasn't woken up, he tiptoes to their door and opens it as carefully as he can. He makes on final check on the love of his life once the door is ajar and then he quietly slips out into the hall. He walks as silently as he can to the sewing room door and with the utmost caution, he pushes the door open.

While the room is very dark, he can see that the only bodies occupying the bed are of the feline persuasion. It's all he can do not to go stomping down the hallway and barge into his daughter's room. He opens her door a bit more forcefully then necessary and fully expects to see two heads to pop up and look at him guiltily.

When there's no movement from the bed, he goes over and puts his hand on the lump under the covers, expecting it to give way to his touch. When it becomes obvious that there is someone in the bed, he makes sure that it's only Amy in there. He quickly checks behind the door, under the bed and in the closet for their missing guest and ends up coming up empty on all counts and this doesn't make him happy.

With a frown on his face, he leaves her room, carefully shutting the door behind him. He turns around and nearly runs right into Hank as the younger man reaches the top of the stairs.

"Good evening, Stuart," Hank quietly greets. "Why were you in Amanda's room?"

"Oh…um…I was…uh…just checking that…ah…there…weren't any cats in her room," Stuart softly stammers as he quickly shuts her door. "She hates it when they get in her room."

"I see," Hank blandly replies, not believing the other man's lie for a second.

"So, what are you doing out of bed?" Stuart asks, trying to keep the accusing tone out of his voice and pretty much failing.

"I became a tad parched, so I went to the kitchen and got myself a drink," Hank answers pleasantly while the two of them start to walk down the hall towards their rooms.

"You seem a bit overdressed for just a glass of water," Stuart points out, a suspicious tone in his voice now.

"Well, Mike did warn me on my first night here that wandering around half dressed is frowned upon," Hank tells him as they reach Hank's room. "I hope my lack of footwear is alright."

"Yeah, it's fine," Stuart mutters while trying not to sulk.

"Then I shall bid you a good night," Hank says as he steps into his room.

"Night," Stuart grumbles while he stalks back towards his room.

Stuart goes to open his own door only to find it won't turn. He takes a firmer grip on the knob and tries again only to have the same result. He quietly knocks on the door and after about a minute, he tries again a bit more loudly. Another minute passes by before Stuart remembers Cathy's threat from earlier and with his proverbial tail figuratively tucked between his legs, he goes and knocks on Hank's door.

"Ah, Stuart, how may I help you?" Hank congenially inquires, now only dressed in his sleeping pants.

"I seem to have locked myself out of my room," Stuart mumbles, knowing full well that he did no such thing. "I don't want to wake Cathy, so…"

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm afraid picking locks isn't my forte," Hank states, trying very hard to keep from smiling.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you to get me into my room," Stuart hastily assures him before waving a hand towards Hank's room. "I just wanted to…"

"Would you care to use my bed?" Hank questions and has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the horrified look on the older man's face. "Just point me towards the spare pillows and blankets and I will sleep on the couch."

"Oh no!" Stuart quickly replies, not even wanting to think of the fallout with his wife if he made a guest sleep on the couch. "I'll sleep on the couch, I just need to get to the extra bedding."

Before Hank can say anything else, Stuart slips past him and heads for the closet. He grabs what he needs as fast as he can and then he all but runs out of the room. Barely containing his snickers, Hank quietly closes the door and returns to his bed where he finds a rather unwelcome guest.

"Really, Siegfried, is it truly necessary to stretch yourself _all _the way across the bed?"

* * *

Kitty pushes the remains of her breakfast around her plate, doing her best to ignore the excited chattering of the other students. Normally, Christmas morning doesn't bother her, but this year it's different. With an unhappy sigh she continues to stare at her half eaten food and she doesn't even look up when three other people join her at her table. 

"Hey, Kitty," Rogue softly greets. "Wolvie still plannin' on makin' ya shovel snow this mornin'?"

"Yeah," Kitty grumbles, slouching down in her chair

"That is so bogus," Jubilee puts in. "I mean, come on, it's like Christmas morning. I know you're Jewish and all, but still that's like no reason to make you go out and shovel snow on Christmas morning. I mean, really, it's like still snowing for Christ sake. Like whatever happened to peace on Earth and good will towards men?"

"I'm not a man," Kitty points out as Serena pushes something into her hands.

"Here, you can borrow my MP3 player," Serena interjects before Jubilee can open her mouth. "It'll help the time go by a little bit faster."

"No thanks," Kitty replies as she tries to return the item to the younger girl. "My parents gave me an iPod for my birthday."

"Trust meh, sugah, ya want to borrow it," Rogue tells Kitty.

Before Kitty can object to borrowing the small device, Serena turns it on and holds one of the earpieces near Kitty's ear. The look on Kitty's face goes from bewilderment to absolute wicked joy. Just then Logan walks into the cafeteria, looking around for Kitty and the young woman he seeks gladly wraps her fingers around the small player.

"Thank you, Serena," Kitty nearly purrs as she stands up. "This will definitely make shoveling snow a lot less…boring."

* * *

"Remind me again why we're not using the snow blower," Kitty requests as they come out of the garage, snow shovels in hand. 

"Because Storm wants us to reduce our carbon footprint or some such crap," Logan grumbles as he tosses a shovel full of the white stuff off to the side.

"But the whole driveway by hand?" Kitty practically whines as she stares at the gates that seem to be miles away.

"Yeah, she said somethin' about the furball showing up or something'," he replies, not pausing in his task. "Guess she's hopin' he'll stop by since he's in Vermont."

"Hank's not in Vermont," Kitty states as she starts to shovel. "He's in Virginia visiting Amanda's family."

"Is he now?" he chuckles. "Guess the furball's gettin' serious about the lawyer lady."

"Guess so," she replies with a shrug.

"Ya want to put a bit more effort into the shovelin' there, Kitten?" he demands when he notices how far behind him she is.

"I'm trying to keep up," she retorts. "It's not like I'm as strong as you and I don't have your healing factor so I do get tired."

"Want some cheese with that whine," he responds with a smirk and she just glares at him as she reaches into the pocket of her jacket. "Whatchya got there?"

"Just my music," she tells him grumpily as she puts the first earpiece in place. "I can listen to my music while I'm stuck out here, can't I?"

"Yeah, go ahead," he replies as he goes back to his shoveling. "Just keep it down."

"Whatever you say, Wolvie," she says with a grin and he gives her a suspicious glare over his shoulder.

She ignores him as she turns the player on and then goes back to her shoveling. He can faintly hear the music, but since it's so low, he quickly puts it out of his mind as he concentrates on clearing the driveway of snow. A while later he can hear her humming along to the music being piped into her head and he just rolls his eyes while he continues to digging his way to the front gates, quickly losing himself in his own thoughts until he hears her softly singing.

_"Don't wanna be a Canadian idiot_

_Don't wanna be some beer-swillin' hockey nut_

_And do I look like some frostbitten hosehead?_

_I never learned my alphabet from A to Zed"_

He goes perfectly still, barely daring to breathe. She isn't really… 

_"They all live on donuts and moose meat_

_And they leave the house without packing heat_

_Never even bring their guns to the mall_

_And you know what else is too funny?_

_Their stupid Monopoly money_

_Can't take 'em seriously at all"_

He slowly turns and stares at her, fairly sure that his highly sensitive hearing must be wrong. She couldn't be… 

_"Well, maple syrup and snow's what they export_

_They treat curling just like it's a real sport_

_They think their silly accent is so cute_

_Can't understand a thing they're talkin' aboot"_

He slowly stalks closer to her, but she's completely oblivious to his approach. 

_"Sure they got their national health care_

_Cheaper meds, low crime rates and clean air_

_Then again, well, they got Celine Dion_

_Eat their weight in Kraft macaroni_

_And dream of drivin' a Zamboni_

_All over Saskatchewan"_

It takes only a moment for him to get to her and faster than a thought, he reaches out to grab the wires to the earpieces, giving them a good hard yank. But instead of pulling them out of her ears, he brings back an empty hand. He makes a grab for her arm and isn't the least bit surprised when his hand sinks right through her as if she isn't there, though it still pisses him off. He gets ready to start yelling at her, but she just casually moves away from him as if she's completely unaware of him. 

_"Don't wanna be a Canadian idiot_

_Won't figure out the temperature in Celsius_

_See the map, they're hoverin' right over us_

_Tell you the truth, it makes me kinda nervous"_

He roars in anger and takes a flying leap at her. He sails right through her and ends up landing face first in a pile of snow. To add insult to injury, she dumps a shovel full of snow right on top of him. 

_"Always hear the same kind of story_

_Break their nose and they'll just say "sorry"_

_Tell me what kind of freaks are that polite?_

_It's gotta mean they're all up to somethin'_

_So quick, before they see it comin'_

_Time for a pre-emptive strike!"_

He shakes the snow out of his face and glares at her as she bops along to the music and continues with her chore, completely ignoring him. Figuring the song has got to be pretty much over, he crawls out of the snow drift and sulks back over to his dropped shovel. He gives a sigh of relief when he hears the music end, but his eyes go incredibly large a second later when the same notes start over again. With a scream of frustration, he goes running back into the garage and returns a few moments later with the snow blower going full tilt. 

Meanwhile, back inside the stately mansion, three young women are standing near a window that looks out over the driveway. They are laughing so hard they have tears streaming down their faces, their sides are hurting and the two younger ones are holding each other up while the eldest is leaning against the wall and banging her gloved fist against it.

"Do I want to know what they're laughing about?" Storm quietly asks from the other side of the room.

"Probably not, but I imagine that it more than likely involves the tormenting of a certain muscle bound cretin with personal hygiene issues," Angel replies.

"You're probably right on both counts," the headmistress sighs before she turns and walks away, making a mental note to make sure it doesn't snow for the next couple of days and to remind Logan that a bathroom is for bathing in.

* * *

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the rights to **Canadian Idiot**, a parody of **American Idiot** with new lyrics by 'Weird' Al Yankovic. 


	64. Merry Christmas pt 4

**Author's Notes: ** For those interested, I've updated my author's page. A big thank you to everyone who left a review or sent me a PM. It's good to know that my it's not my writing that sucks, just the opinions of a couple of weenies who deserve each other.

* * *

"Aunt Amy?" Paul calls through the closed bedroom door.

"Yeah, come in," she replies a bit loudly to be heard through the closed portal and a second later the door swings open. "What do you need?"

"Can I use your computer to play my new game?" he asks as she finishes brushing her hair.

"I'm not sure my computer has the memory to run your game," she replies hesitantly. "It's a few years old and I've got a ton of stuff on it."

"Don't worry about it," Paul whispers as he shuts the door behind him. "I don't really want to play my game, I just want to see if there are any more FOH websites I can take down."

"Does your mother know you're up here?" she asks while she puts her necklace on.

"No," he softly grumbles, hanging his head.

"While I appreciate you wanting to find those sites and take them down, I don't think it's a good idea to be trying to do that behind your mom's back," she tells him. "There should be someone nearby in case something goes wrong and I can't do it right now."

"Why not?" he questions.

"Because Hank is expecting me downstairs and quite frankly, leaving him alone with your grandparents makes me nervous," she answers.

"Why?" he inquires as he takes a seat on her bed.

"Because your grandmother is likely to start frisking him for a ring now that she knows about my necklace and your grandfather has been so antsy today that I'm afraid he's about to go for his shotgun," she responds while she heads for the door.

"There's something odd about your necklace," he states as she puts her hand on the door.

"How so?" she inquires, pausing to look back at the boy.

"I can feel something in there," he tells her as he gets up and moves towards her.

She doesn't move and she doesn't say anything as he steps up to her. He reaches out and gently touches the gold heart with his fingertip. He suddenly pulls his hand back as his entire body shudders like he had a major shiver run up his spine.

"Whatever is in there is pretty strong even though it's really small," he continues and then gives into another body shake, though not as severe as the first one. "It's also going to last for a really long time too. Do you think Hank knows about it?"

"I don't know," she quietly replies as she starts to reach for the pendant and then thinks twice about it. "Come on, we should get going before your mom comes up here and thinks I'm trying entice you to my evil ways."

"Mom needs to get over herself," he mutters as they step out into the hallway.

"You're not going to get any argument from me, kiddo," she chuckles while they start to descend the stairs.

Her laughter hides the worry about what might be in the pendant as she wonders if Hank knows what's in the small metal heart and if he does, why he didn't tell her about it.

* * *

"You can't use proper names," Mike states as he stares at the tile Hank has just laid down.

"It's not," Hank replies, amusement evident in his voice. "Look it up."

Mike eyes Hank for a moment and then reaches for the dictionary sitting on the table between him and Amanda. The next minute or so is spent waiting for Mike to look up the word Hank just put on the board while Amanda stares at her own tiles, contemplating her next move. She looks up when Mike snorts in disbelief, loudly closing the sizable tome in front of him and Hank pencils in his score before collecting a new tile with an amused look on his face.

"Jo is a legitimate word," Mike grumbles, shaking his head.

"What does it mean?" Amanda asks, now curious.

"It means sweetheart," Hank tells her, staring at her with that intense look while a smile ghosts across his lips and she starts blushing. "I believe it's your turn, my dear."

"Right," she mutters, quickly turning back to the tiles before her and then picking up three of them with a smirk. "M-I-N-X. With a double word score, that's twenty-six."

"Very well done, my dear," Hank says with a twinkle in his eye and they both try not to laugh while Mike just looks back and forth between the two.

"M-I-N-E-D. With a double letter score, that's nine points," Mike states as he reaches for more tiles.

Hank jots down the amount and then turns his attention to his own tiles, rearranges a couple of them and then gets a really big grin on his face.

"P-A-N-T-I-E-S," Hank proudly states and Amanda nearly spits her hot cocoa across the table. "With a double letter and triple word score, that's thirty-six."

She gives her love a nasty glare as she mops up the dribbled out chocolate drink with a napkin, though the power of that look is hampered by the fact that she's trying not to laugh.

"Why do I have the feeling I'm missing something and I'll probably be much happier never know what it is?" Mike mumbles as he rearranges some of the tiles off of his rack while Hank replaces the ones on his.

"I believe it's your turn again," Hank reminds Amanda with that grin still firmly in place and she shoots him one more narrowed eyed look before looking at her tiles again.

"B-E-A-S-T for seven points," she playfully snarls at the blue man while Hank chuckles and writes down her score.

"O-B-I," Mike states a minute later as he puts his tiles down. "With a double word score, that's ten."

"P-E-R-V-E-R-T-S," Hank proudly proclaims a few moments later as he carefully lays down his tiles while Amanda makes a funny squeaking noise and turns an incredible shade of red. "Let's see, with two triple letter bonuses and the fifty point bonus for using all of my tiles, that's sixty-seven points."

"Why did I agree to play Scrabble with you two?" Mike asks almost rhetorically.

"Because it was either this or go watch the movie the girls got from Santa this morning for the third time," she reminds him.

A second later they can hear Paul roaring with the girls shrieking at the top of their vocal range a moment later and it's quickly followed by the sound of stampeding feet as the kids run through the house.

"Sounds like the movie's over," Amanda muses as she stares at her tiles some more.

"The movie shouldn't be ending for at least another forty-five minutes," Hank states, looking at his watch.

"Sounds more like they got into your snacks again," Mike says as the sound of Annie yelling at the kids reaches them.

"I didn't have any room in my bags for snacks and I haven't been to the store since I got here," she replies. "Maybe they found their Christmas presents from me."

"You know, even I'm going to have to agree that giving each of the kids a two pound box of chocolate is going a bit far," Mike tells her, though not angrily. "And they couldn't have gotten into them because Annie locked them in the car while the kids were getting dressed."

"That's what Annie gets for trying to blackmail me," she retorts while she rearranges a couple of tiles. "Maybe they're just going stir crazy because it's still snowing outside."

"No, when they're bored and stuck inside they just whine and constantly ask 'what can we do now?' until Annie and I are about ready to climb the walls," he replies. "They're acting like they're on another sugar high."

"Well, for a change, they didn't get it from me," she says as she picks up a couple of her tiles.

"YOU!" Annie shrieks from the doorway causing the other adults to jump while she waves empty cellophane wrappers that are clutched in her hand.

"Me what?" Amanda asks, not even bothering to look up from her tiles.

"It's not bad enough that you gave them all of that chocolate, but you have to sneak junk food to them too!?" Annie yells at her sister and Hank gets a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach that is anything but joyful.

"As I was just telling your husband, the only junk food I brought with me this time I gave to them this morning," Amanda calmly replies, still not bothering to look up at her sister. "I didn't have room in my bags when I left New York and I haven't been to a store since I got here."

"Don't lie to me," Annie snarls as she marches into the room and shoves the wrappers under Amanda's nose. "I found Twinkie wrappers in their room! How do you explain that?"

"Oh dear," Hank mutters just before standing and quickly leaving the room.

The others stare after him and several moments later something clicks in Amanda's brain.

"Oh they better not have," Amanda growls just before she shoots out of her chair and out of the room.

"Wonder what that was all about?" Mike quietly muses, still staring at the doorway.

"I don't know, but I'm _not_ done yelling at her yet," Annie snaps as she spins around on her heel and starts to exit the room.

"Annie, could we please get through some family get together without you yelling at your sister," he begs and she turns around so fast he's surprised that he didn't hear a small sonic boom from her breaking the sound barrier.

"So your siding with her now?" she demands.

"Honey, I love you until death do us part, but I'm tired of living in a battle field when she's around," he answers as he gets up and comes around the table to her. "You two get along so well when your apart, why can't you do that when you're together? I'd ask why you're so stressed out this time, but with Hank here, it's kind of a given."

"Maybe if she'd stop undermining my authority with our kids and start acting like an adult," she hisses, pulling away from him when he tries to pull her into his arms. "You didn't have to grow up with her, I did."

"Yes, sweetheart, I know," he says in a calming voice, hoping he can just calm her down enough that there won't be another blow up. "But like your mom said, she doesn't see them that often and it's not like they don't eat anything else. A little sugar every once and a while isn't going to stunt their growth or anything."

She opens her mouth to give him a scathing retort about all of the wrongs she's received from her twin when they hear Amanda's voice calling for their children.

* * *

By the time she reaches his room, he's already found the empty box and is sitting on the edge of the bed looking at it with a rather forlorn look on his face.

"Please tell me that's not the box I gave you," she almost begs, her heart nearly breaking from the look on his face.

"Well, since you asked so nicely...," he starts, looking up at her with a half hearted smile.

"Hank, I'm sorry," she says as she walks over to him and lays a hand on his shoulder. "I should have warned you to hide them."

"Yes, well, who would have thought they would go through my bags to find them," he replies with a sigh.

"I'll get you a new one," she assures him as she takes the box from him. "But right now, I need to talk to those kids."

"What are you two doing in here alone?" Stuart loudly demands and both Amanda and Hank slightly jump since they didn't hear him come in.

"Let's see, Dad, it's the middle of the day, everybody's awake, we're both fully dressed, we've been here for maybe a minute and the door is wide open," Amanda answers a bit testily, her nerves about worn out from the constant stress. "What do you think we're doing? Now if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to a few kids about this little thing called stealing."

Before Stuart can respond, she marches out of the room with the empty Twinkie box firmly in her hand. Stuart quickly follows her, making sure to keep himself between her and Hank as the three of them walk down the hallway. She keeps a very tight hold of her anger and frustration with her father's overprotective nature and trots down the stairs as fast as she can to get away from him.

"Bethany! Beverly! Paul! Come here please!" she calls out as she reaches the bottom step.

Stuart comes to a stop right behind her, effectively blocking Hank from leaving the steps and it takes quite a bit of Hank's self control to not to pick the man up and move him. Annie and Mike come out of the dinning room with Annie still looking like she wants to kill something and Mike looking like he wishes he was someplace else. Curious about what's going on, Cathy pops out of the kitchen and follows the others to the foot of the stairs.

A few moments later the kids come charging around the corner and the girls slam into their aunt, expecting a hug. Amanda simply puts a hand on the banister to steady herself, but doesn't bother to put her arms around the twins and the girls look up at her in confusion. Paul moves towards them just as Hank manages to finally slip past Stuart, much to the older mans displeasure.

"Guys, did you go into Hank's room earlier?" Amanda asks calmly as the girls back up a couple of steps.

"What does Hank have to do with this?" Annie demands, staring daggers at her sister.

"I'm getting to that," Amanda assures her before returning her attention to the children. "Well?"

"Yes," the three of them answer a bit hesitantly.

"Did you take the Twinkies that were in his room?" Amanda questions calmly though she is less than happy, partially with the kids, but quite a bit with herself.

"Yeah," they mutter, getting confused and a bit upset by this sudden questioning.

"Why did you do that?" Amanda inquires, trying very hard to maintain her calm.

"We thought they were yours," Beverly finally replies after several moments of silence.

"When have I ever hidden junk food outside of my room?" Amanda asks, a hint of displeasure evident in her voice.

"Never," they all mumble.

"So please explain to me why you decided to go through his room?" Amanda questions.

There's silence from the kids as they look around everywhere but at their aunt. Paul's attention falls to the watch that Hank's wearing and he's drawn to it like he was drawn to Amanda's pendant.

"Cool watch," Paul blurts out as he reaches for Hank's wrist. "What does this button do?"

Before Hank can stop the boy, he pushes the button for the image inducer in Hank's watch. Where once a blue, furry mutant had stood just a second before, there now stands a perfectly normal looking man with brown hair and bright blue eyes wearing Hank's clothes. With great haste, the man quickly pulls his hand away from Paul and presses the button for a second time and suddenly Hank is standing amongst them once more.

"Whoa, cool!" Paul gasps. "How'd you do that?"

"It's called an image inducer," Hank tells him, quickly glancing at Amanda and seeing the confused look on her face which has his guts tying themselves into a knot. "I sometimes use it when I do not wish to be stared at or harassed."

"Can I see it again?" Paul asks excitedly, itching to get his hands on that watch.

"No," Hank answers, displeasure evident in his voice now. "I believe we were on the subject of taking what does not belong to you and violating other's personal space."

"But we thought Aunt Amy hid them in there for us to find," Bethany nearly whines.

"And again, I will ask, when have I ever hidden junk food outside of my room?" Amanda demands, the nasty shock of seeing Hank turn into a normal looking man that looks vaguely familiar has knocked her a bit off balance and her temper starts to break through.

"Don't you take that tone with my children!" Annie snaps as she steps forward and pushes the twins behind her. "This is all your fault, so don't be blaming them for this."

"The box of Twinkies they took was in my luggage," Hank points out calmly despite her getting on one of his last nerves and Beast growling in the back of him mind. "One would think that it would have been rather obvious that they were mine, not Amanda's."

"And what were you doing with food in your room anyways?" Annie demands and Hank's eyebrows nearly shoot right off the top of his head in surprise since this is the first time the woman has actually said more than monosyllable one word answers to his questions.

"The Twinkies were a gift from Amanda," Hank replies, keeping a very firm grip on his temper and Beast who's now snarling and snapping to be let loose.

"Leave him out of this, Annie," Amanda snarls as she steps between her sister and her boyfriend. "This is between me and the kids."

"Don't think you're going to get to yell at my kids while I just idly stand by," Annie snaps, practically getting into Amanda's face.

"The only person who's been yelling has been you," Amanda points out and Hank can see the cold mask drop into place.

The two woman stand toe to toe staring at each other with blazing green eyes and Hank is surprised by the differences he sees in those orbs. While Amanda's pupils are dilating and contracting as she tries to hold onto her anger, Annie's pupils are completely still.

"And who's fault is it that I'm yelling!?" Annie nearly screams and Hank is on the verge of covering his overly sensitive ears to protect them.

"The only person who can control you is you, Annie," Amanda replies and Annie's face turns beet red.

"You are the most selfish, self-centered, egotistical person I know!" Annie yells as spittle flies from her mouth into Amanda's face.

"Haven't looked in a mirror lately, have you?" Amanda snaps back, her control pushed to its limit.

**SMACK!!!**


	65. Merry Christmas pt 5

**Author's Notes I: **Sorry this chapter's a little shorter than normal, but you'll understand why when you get to the end. One little thing, Fight and Flight are mine, please don't use them without my permission. A big thank you goes to Coffeelvr72, Erisah Mae, Takerslady, maraluch, theNightEnchantress, xdanishxpastryx, Mythigal, kudokuchan69 and tgooding for your reviews.

* * *

"Are you sure?" he asks, fixing her with a piercing blue eyed stare.

"Yes, sir," she replies, trying to keep her focus on his face despite the pain. "You had just left and I could _feel_ someone..._in_ the computer. I know it sounds crazy, but it's the only way I can describe this sense that someone was _in_ there, looking around. If I had to take a guess, I'd say that there's a mutant out there who can go into the Internet...sort of like what they did in The Matrix."

"This isn't a movie," he points out, a steel gray eyebrow arching up at her.

"I know, but that's the only way I can describe what I think happened," she moans as the throbbing in her head finally starts to lessen thanks to the pain pills.

"What do you think this...person...was after?" he asks.

"I think he was after our site," she tells him. "I saw the files flashing across the screen and when it got to the main page for our site, that's when the computer blew up. I barely managed to start turning away when it went up."

"Hmm, it sounds like someone took exception to our little site," he muses as he leans back into his chair while the young woman across the desk from him tries to avoid rubbing her hand over her half shaved head. "When you are feeling better, I want you to check to see if any of the FOH sites have come down. I also want you to check to see if there are any other sites that are dedicated McCoy and his Sapien girlfriend and see if they're still up or not. I am most curious to if this was just a random act by some mutant or an intentional attack."

"But I don't have a computer, sir," she reminds him.

"Don't worry, you'll have the best on the market," he assures her.

"But where will I set it up?" she inquires. "The room I was using was badly damaged."

"Fight and Flight are working on getting your office back into order," he answers.

"I don't mean to question you, sir, but Fight strikes me as someone who'd sooner put hole in a wall then to patch it," she quietly states.

"Never fear, Flight is keeping his brother in check," he responds with a smile. "Now, go enjoy the rest of your Christmas."

"Won't you be joining us, sir?" she asks as she gets up from her seat.

"All in good time, my dear," he answers while he looks across his office to the wall with various pictures clipped from the newspaper. "I need to think about this new turn of events and whether or not this mutant is a friend of McCoy's or someone who simply hates the Friends of Humanity."

"What's the difference?" she questions as she pauses in her journey to the exit.

"Well, if they simply hate the FOH enough to attack their sites, then we have a potential ally whom we may have use of," he replies pleasantly before dropping his voice down into a growl and his eyes narrowing as he glares at the pictures on the wall. "But if this person is a friend of McCoy's, then we have a new enemy who will have to be dealt with."

* * *

It seems like time has simply stopped and Hank has always assumed 'a deafening silence' to be nothing more than a foolish cliché that is best ignored, or, better yet, forgotten. The quiet following Annie's slap across Amanda's face is one where one can quite literally hear a pin drop, as if no one dares to breathe. In the time it takes for the shock of Annie's attack to set in and his mind contemplating the absolute silence that follows it, Beast surges forward in a pure, hot rage.

The only reason Annie doesn't find herself immediately slammed into a wall is because Amanda stands between the two of them. He quickly wraps an arm around Amanda's waist and moves her to the side just as he steps towards Annie, uttering a low threatening growl from deep within his throat. Annie snarls back just as Mike grabs her by an arm and then drags her back into the dinning room, slamming the door behind them.

While a few moments ago it seemed like time had stop, it now starts up again with chaotic results. Stuart starts yelling at Hank, Cathy starts yelling at Amanda, Paul runs off and the twins start crying. Beast's first instinct is to protect his mate and to that end, he wraps his other arm around her, backing up a step as a growl that's more felt than heard resonates through his chest.

"Too tight," Amanda gasps as she tries to push Hank's arms way from her middle and a second later she can feel his body shudder.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs next to her ear as he quickly loosens his hold on her and she immediately takes a deep breath. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just peachy," she grumbles as he gently turns her around and has a look at her face.

"Get your hands off of my daughter," Stuart all but yells at Hank.

"I just want to make sure she's alright," Hank calmly explains as he delicately takes Amanda's face in his hands and turns it so he can see where Annie hit her.

"I said don't touch her!" Stuart shouts as he grabs Hank's arm and tries to pull it away from Amanda only to find that he can't budge the appendage.

"Give it a rest, Dad," Amanda growls, fighting the urge to just run away from these people she has the misfortune to be related to and never come back.

"Don't you talk to your father like that, young lady," Cathy orders as she steps closer and waves a hand towards Hank. "Because of him, Mike had to drag your sister off and hide her. He was going to attack her! I must say, I can't approve of you dating him any more."

"Fortunately for me, that isn't up to you," Amanda retorts as Hank softly runs a finger tip across her cheek and she gives an involuntary wince at the sudden pain. "Ouch."

"My apologies," Hank says as he finally releases her face. "Annie's nails scratched you and they broke the skin. You should clean that. I do find it most interesting that her nails are sharp enough to scratch you like that. It almost looks like claw marks."

"What did you expect from a catty little...?" Amanda starts.

"Amanda Rachel Simon!" Cathy gasps in horror and shock.

"What?" Amanda nearly snaps.

"How dare you use such language?" Cathy demands, a horrified look on her face.

"I was going to say 'witch'," Amanda grumbles as she turns towards the stairs.

"That's not very nice," Hank says, his voice indicating he's attempting to return the good humor to the situation. "I happen to know several witches and they're very nice people."

"Witches are sinners and condemned by the Lord," Stuart states as he glares at Amanda. "Annie is not a sinner."

"So much for being non-judgmental," Hank mutters to himself.

"Keep telling yourself that, Dad," Amanda grumbles as she starts up the steps. "I'm going to wash these scratches little miss 'non-sinner' gave me."

"Fine, you do that," Cathy says. "I hope your happy with the chaos you've caused.."

"If Amanda is to be blamed for this...'chaos', I am curious as to what you would call what Annie just did to Amanda," Hank muses out loud as Amanda spins around to face her mother, her mouth already open with her retort.

"This is a family matter and doesn't concern you," Cathy stiffly tells Hank as she glares at him.

"Perhaps I have over stayed my welcome," Hank says with his ire rising and Beast growling in the back of his mind, it's becoming very difficult for him to maintain his calm.

"If you're leaving, then so am I," Amanda states and turns back towards the steps again.

"NO!" the twins cry out in fear.

Startled, the adults turn towards the girls as they launch themselves at Hank and latch their arms around his middle.

"Please don't go, Hank," Bethany begs.

"We're sorry we took your Twinkies," Beverly sobs.

"Girls, come here," Cathy orders the twins, but they just hold onto Hank tighter, burying their faces into his shirt and their tears start to soak his sweater.

_Cubs sad,_ Beast whines.

"It's alright, girls," Hank softly assures the girls, patting their backs. "It was just a misunderstanding."

"See what you've caused?" Cathy accuses, glaring at her daughter.

"Right, and their mother going psycho had nothing to do with it," Amanda snaps back, stepping back down off of the stairs.

"Speaking of which, once Annie's calmed down, you _will_ apologize to her," Cathy demands. "And you will not be going with Hank when he leaves."

"Excuse me!?" Amanda yells. "I'm sitting there playing Scrabble with Mike and Hank when the Wicked Witch of the East comes storming in, accuses me of sneaking sugar to her kids, of which I'm innocent and then smacks me when I try to find out why the kids got into something that didn't belong to them and I'm supposed to apologize to her!?"

"What is she supposed to think?" Cathy snaps. "You're always sneaking junk food to the kids."

"But I've never hidden it outside of my room before," Amanda heatedly reminds her mother.

"That doesn't matter, you will apologize for antagonizing your sister and that's that," Cathy firmly states.

"Are you going to make her apologize for slapping me?" Amanda demands.

"Why should she?" Cathy asks with surprise written all over her face. "You've had it coming. You should be glad that she's held off this long in doing it."

"Then they'll be snow skiing in Hell before I apologize to that spoiled rotten brat of yours," Amanda snarls.

Before anyone can react to her words, Amanda all but runs down the hallway and a moment later the sound of the back door slamming shut reaches them.

"Amanda!" Hank yells out in surprise and starts to go after her only to find that the twins won't let go of him. "Please let go of me, girls. I need to go check on your aunt."

"Don't bother," Stuart orders and it takes a great deal of self control for Hank not to snap at the man. "She's just having another one of her temper tantrums. She'll come back when she's ready."

"You don't care that your daughter has just run off into a snow storm?" Hank asks in shock at the man's callous behavior.

"Actually, it stopped snowing about half an hour ago," Cathy tells him with a shrug. "Stuart's right, she'll come back once she's cooled down."

"I will give her one hour or until it starts snowing again and then I'm going after her," Hank states as he gently, but firmly disengages the twins from his middle. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go and pack."

Before any of the others have a chance to respond, Hank is up the stairs and headed for the room he's been sleeping in so that he can pack his bags, studiously ignoring the Beast raging inside of his head.

* * *

His bags are packed and in the trunk of his car, waiting for him to take his leave of this place and he silently hopes that Amanda was sincere in her wish to go with him. He has never been happier to see a snow plow in his life, since it means there won't be any delay when it's time to leave. The fifteen minutes it took for him to dig his car out at least worked off some of his anger and frustration, but the fact that Amanda has yet to return has done nothing for his nerves.

Now he stares out the living room window, his heavy coat laying across the arm of the couch waiting for him and never has snow looked so bleak to him. It takes every bit of his self control not to be pacing in front of this plate glass window like a caged animal as he waits for her return or for the time to be up so that he can go find her. Fortunately, no one has bothered to try talking to him since he went upstairs to pack as he's not sure he would be able to keep a civil tongue in his head.

The tantalizing smells of their Christmas dinner reaches his nose, but his stomach is so tied up in knots with worry that it does little more than annoy him. He resists the urge to check his watch again to see how much time has passed since he knows he's just checked it not that long ago. When Mike joins him at the window, he simply ignores the other man's presence and continues to watch for his lady love's return.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about the kids getting into your stuff," Mike finally says after several long minutes of silence. "I don't know why they did it. Amy's never hidden food outside of her room. The kids will buy you a new box, I promise."

"At this moment, it's not the Twinkies being returned to me that I'm overly concerned about," Hank replies in a rather displeased voice.

"Amy's always taking off when she's ticked off about something," Mike tells him. "She'll be back once she's worked the anger off."

"Has she ever gone off in weather as bad as this before?" Hank asks, staring at the clear footprints in the snow leading into the woods.

"Well, um, no, she usually heads for the barn when it's cold out," Mike hesitantly admits.

"Then you'll have to excuse me if I don't share your confidence," Hank responds, still not looking over at the man.

"She knows these woods like the back of her hand, she'll be fine," Mike assures him and all he gets in response is a non-committal grunt from the other man.

A few minutes pass by before the silence is broken, but this time, it's by Hank himself.

"I am curious about something," Hank says, slightly startling Mike.

"What's that?" Mike asks.

"Why did you pick Annie over Amanda?" Hank inquires. "No offense, but Annie strikes me as being a bit...difficult...to get along with."

"Annie's really sweet, but she doesn't really like change, especially without any warning," Mike replies. "She's a good wife and an excellent mother, but I'm afraid with you here, she's been really stressed out. No offense."

"None taken," Hank assures him. "However, you haven't answered my question."

"Why would I need to pick between them?" Mike questions. "Amy has always been a friend to me. She's the first kid at the church to come over and talk to me when my family started going there. She's a very out going person, but I always found her to be a bit bossy, sort of like my mom and sister. Annie's a lot quieter and a lot easier for me to be comfortable around."

Before Hank can reply, the timer on his watch goes off and he quickly turns it off just before he grabs his coat and heads for the back door.

"I'll come with you," Mike offers as he grabs his own coat off of a hook next to the door before following Hank out onto the back porch.

"That won't be necessary," Hank states as he quickly pulls his snow boots on.

"Listen, if I don't go with you, Stuart will and I wouldn't wish that man on my worst enemy," Mike quietly tells him after making sure the door is firmly closed behind him.

"Then in that case, I certainly hope you can keep up," Hank replies.

Before Mike can respond, Hank leaps off of the top step and bounds across the yard at an amazing speed. Mike's glad that his boots are already on and quickly takes off after the man, knowing there's no way in Hell he's going to be able to keep up with him.

Hank follows Amanda's footprints and worriedly notices that they're none too steady, like she was either drunk or having a hard time seeing where she was going. He goes deeper into the woods and before he knows it he's climbing up a hill where the trees and underbrush are much thicker. Soon he's running at the top of a ridge of steep drop off, nervously watching the unsteady weave of her steps.

What feels like an eternity later, he finally catches a whiff of her scent and he puts on a burst of speed, hoping that he's close. Soon her scent becomes stronger, but with it comes the metallic tinge of blood and pushes himself beyond what even he knew he was capable of. He sprints around a large maple that's precariously perched at the top of the ridge and then he comes to a skidding halt.

He stands and stares at the footprints she's left in the snow before they disappear over the edge of the drop off.

* * *

**A/N II:** It's good to be the author. _:evil snickering ensues:_


	66. Merry Christmas pt 6

**Author's Notes:** Yes, I'm evil. But at least I don't leave you hanging for ages for an update this time. A big thank you to my reviewers: Neotoma, theNightEnchantress, Coffeelvr72, xdanishxpastryx, Mythigal and kudokuchan69. You guys really made my day.�

* * *

Her anger has her brain spinning like a whirling dervish and her tears blur her sight, but she doesn't care. She just knows she needs to escape this place and the thought of never coming back gets more and more appealing with every stumbling step she takes. She just wants to run away with Hank and disappear into a hole so no one can ever find them or bother them ever again.

She takes in another ragged breath of freezing air and sobs it out again as the emotional pain caused by over twenty years of Hell that she's kept bottled up comes pouring out. The cold wind chills the tears on her cheeks, but she doesn't care as she runs headlong into the comforting woods. The cold silence of the trees so much preferable to the heated words of her family and she staggers on as quickly as she can.

She doesn't care if she runs until she reaches the end of the world, she just wants to get away from the pain in her heart and so she keeps going. The snow is half way up her shins and has soaked through her pants and tennis shoes, freezing her lower legs and feet to numbness. She welcomes the loss of feeling and hopes it will spread into her mind and heart so she won't have to remember or feel any of this anymore.

She barely manages to avoid running into a rather sizable tree and she stumbles past it, barely able to see where she's going because of the tears. She tries to blink them away, but more come to replace them and she once more wishes the pain in her heart would just go away. She lets out another cry like a wounded animal just as the ground beneath her feet seems to disappear.

* * *

She opens her eyes and finds herself staring at the trunk of a tree and she tries to remember how she got here. Nothing comes to mind, but she knows she can't continue to lie in the snow, so she starts to push herself upright. A searing pain shoots up her right arm and she cries out as she instinctively curls around her injured arm.

She continues to lie there whimpering and after a while she notices that her head and her arm are throbbing in time with each other. She reaches up with her left hand to where her head hurts, gently touching the spot with her fingers and when she pulls her hand back she can see the fingertips of her glove covered in blood. She stares at it in confusion for several long moments before she decides that she really shouldn't be lying in the snow.

She carefully pushes herself up with her left hand, barely noticing that something warm and sticky is trickling down her face. She gets to her feet as fast as she can and manages to stagger a couple of steps before a very bad case of vertigo hits her making her go down to her knees. She barely catches herself on her good hand as she suddenly bends over to purge her stomach of its contents.

She spends some undetermined amount of time in that position as she tries to get her body to stop trembling and only when she's pretty sure she's not going to throw up any more does she sit back on her heals. She carefully scoops up some clean snow and sucks on it to ease the burning in her mouth and throat. While the melted snow does ease the pain in her throat and it seems to calm her stomach, it also makes her aware of how cold she is as she starts shivering harder.

She carefully gets to her feet this time, using one of the trees as support and stands there for several moments as she tries to get her body under control. She hears a loud noise from not too far away, but her befuddled brain can't decipher what it is, so she ignores it. She stands there, leaning against the tree as she waits for her limbs to become more cooperative.

She takes a tentative step away from the tree, barely aware of the sound of something moving closer to her and almost immediately places her foot on a rock hidden in the snow. She starts to go down again and all she can do is curl around her injured arm and squeeze her eyes shut in preparation of hitting the ground. A pair of strong arms keeps her from hitting the ground, but they end up putting a great deal of pressure on her right arm and she screams as the pain tears through her arm making it feel like its on fire.

"Oh my stars and garters, Amanda, I'm sorry," Hank gasps as he quickly changes how he's holding her. "Where did I hurt you?"

"Arm," she whimpers a couple of seconds later after his words penetrate her pain fogged brain.

He carefully gets her to sit on a spot that he's hastily cleared of snow, leaning her back against a tree once she's down and it's only then that he can see she's cradling her right arm. He gently runs his hands along the injured limb, feeling it as best he can through her coat and when he reaches her wrist he can feel the bones move unnaturally making her cry out again. He then follows the trail of blood to up near her hairline where he finds a rather nasty looking gash and she winces when he tries to move the hair that's plastered to the wound.

"Why am I out here?" she asks as she tries to focus on his face and then staring off into space when she can't bring it into focus.

"What do you remember?" he inquires while he shrugs his own coat off and then slides it around her shoulders.

"I remember us playing Scrabble," she answers in a daze as he goes over to a nearby river birch tree and breaks a couple branches off. "You were spelling naughty words."

"Perverts is not a naughty word," he replies with a chuckle as he breaks the branches down to a more reasonable length.

"Why am I out here?" she asks again while he pulls her right arm away from her body with great care.

"What do you remember after the Scrabble game?" he questions as he starts to splint her arm.

"Yelling," she says a few moments later and she gets very sad as tears start to travel down her cheeks again. "There was a lot of yelling. Why is there always yelling?"

"Shhh, it's alright now," he softly assures her while he carefully uses the pliable ends of the branches to hold the splints in place. "Everything is going to be fine."

"No, it's never fine with my family," she sniffs and her breathing starts becoming irregular.

"I'm here now," he tells her as he tucks her injured arm back under his coat. "I'll keep you safe."

"Promise?" she begs, her eyes seeking his.

"Promise," he replies as he gently wipes away the tears. 

She closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his warm hands on her face and he softly kisses her forehead. Her left hand comes up to hold his hand in place as she rub her cheek into his over sized mitt. He smiles down at her before turning his attention to the steep embankment they came down and he worries how he's going to get her back up there without causing her further pain.

"Hank? Amy?" Mike's voice echoes down to them.

"Wait here," Hank instructs as he stands back up. "I'll be right back."

Before she can protest, he moves past a few trees to get a clearer view up to the ridge and he easily spots Mike worriedly looking for them.

"We're down here," Hank calls, waving his arm in the air to get the man's attention.

"Are you alright?" Mike asks as he moves as he can without coming down the embankment himself.

"I'm fine, but Amanda has a broken wrist, a concussion, probably has hypothermia and she's definitely going into shock," Hank answers. "She needs to go to the hospital Is there an easier way of getting back up there? I don't want to try going up this embankment with her and chance slipping."

"Follow the creek downstream and it'll take you to the road," Mike tells him. "I'll go get my car and meet you there.

"Take my car," Hank offers as he fishes his keys out of his pocket and then tosses them up towards Mike who lets them land in the snow near his feet. "I've already dug it out."

"Nice arm," Mike calls after fishes the keys out of the snow. "I'll be as fast as I can."

With that, the other man turns and disappears, leaving Hank to take care of Amanda. He quickly returns to her and he finds her trying to get to her feet, not even noticing that his jacket is sliding off of her. He swiftly moves to her side and helps her stand the rest of the way up before resettling his jacket on her shoulders.

"Why am out I here?" she asks with a dazed expression on her face.

"Can you walk?" he questions as holds her steady.

"I think so," she answers and he can feel her slightly sway. "My arm hurts. I think I broke it."

"I know," he replies gently as he reaches inside his coat and guides her left arm into the sleeve. "We need to go downstream to get to the road. Do you think you can make it?"

"I guess I can try," she says, looking around at the trees surrounding them. "Why am out I here?"

"You fell," he explains as he carefully zips up the front of his jacket. "Put your arm through mine and we'll go as slowly as you need to go."

She nods, but then instantly regrets it as her head starts to spin again and without even knowing she's doing it, she starts to sink to her knees. His first instinct is to hold her up, but one look at her face tells him to just help her down. She goes down to her hand and knees again and all he can do is hold back her hair as empties her stomach once more.

"Perhaps I should try carrying you," he suggests as she eats another handful of snow. "Would that be alright?"

"Yeah," she whispers and he carefully lifts her into his arms.

She wraps her left arm around his shoulders as she buries her nose into the fur on his neck. Beast whimpers for its injured mate and Hank suddenly realizes that it's been quiet for quite some time.

_Help mate,_ Beast demands. _Now!_

_I'm working on it,_ Hank irritably responds as he carefully makes his way along the bank of the creek, ever mindful of the wounded woman in his arms

* * *

By the time Mike makes it back to the house, he's out of breath and there's sweat dripping down his face. Since he's not interested in playing twenty questions with his in-laws, wife or kids, he heads around the house. Unfortunately, Stuart is waiting for him.

"Where are they?" Stuart nearly demands as he steps to the top step of the back porch.

"Amy fell down into the ravine," Mike gasps as he slows his headlong dash around the house. "Hank says she has a broken arm, a concussion, hypothermia and is going into shock."

"And you just left them out there?" Stuart asks.

"Hank's going to follow the creek down to the road," Mike pants, pushing at the stitch in his side. "I'm going to meet them there and take them to the hospital."

"I'll help you dig your car out," Stuart offers as he takes the first step off of the porch.

"No need," Mike replies as he catches his breath and holds up Hank's keys. "I've got Hank's keys and his car is already been dug out. I suggest you guys work on getting one of the other cars dug out and meet us at the hospital."

Before Stuart can respond, Mike's around the side of the house and heading for Hank's car.

* * *

Hank silently thanks whatever higher being or beings that there may be in the universe for his mutation, for without it, he knows they'd both be in trouble. The way has been slow and at times a bit dicey thanks to hidden rocks and the partially frozen creek, but he can finally see the road not that far ahead of them and he gives a sigh of relief. He starts to climb up the embankment to get to the pavement and she whimpers when his foot slightly slips.

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispers near her ear. "We're almost to the road and I can hear a car coming. Hopefully it's Mike."

"Cold," she murmurs, her teeth chattering so hard it's almost impossible to understand her.

"Don't worry, you'll be warm soon," he assures her as his foot finally makes contact with the road.

He looks towards the sound of the approaching engine and nearly gives a shout of joy when he sees Mike behind the wheel of his car. Mike stops in the middle of the road since there's no shoulder to pull over to and gets out of the vehicle with the engine still running. Hank heads straight for the back door and carefully sets Amanda down in the back seat.

"Do you want me to sit in back with her?" Mike asks as Hank covers her up with the blanket that he keeps in the back seat of his car.

"No, I'd like you to drive," Hank answers while he carefully gets the seatbelt around her, making sure the shoulder harness goes behind her back. "You know where the hospital is and I want to keep an eye on her. Please turn the heat up to high once we're in."

"Don't leave," she begs as Hank starts to pull away.

"Don't worry, my love, I'm not going anywhere," Hank softly assures her. "I just need to get in on the other side."

Before she can protest any further, he shuts the door and quickly moves around the car. He slides into the back seat and moves to the middle position as Mike gets back behind the wheel. Within moments they're rolling and Hank wraps an arm around her while she cuddles up to him the best she can. He buries his nose in her hair and closes his eyes as he silently vows to never let her go through an ordeal like this again.

* * *

By the time Cathy and Stuart get to the emergency waiting room, Mike's thumbed through several magazines and is about ready to climb the walls.

"Well?" Cathy asks as they walk up to him.

"I don't know anything yet," Mike replies with a shake of his head.

"Where's Hank?" Stuart questions as he suspiciously looks around the nearly empty room.

"He's back there helping them," Mike answers, pointing towards the doors that they took Amanda through earlier.

"What's he doing back there?" Stuart demands, glaring at the doors.

"You should be back there, not him," Cathy states as she sets down an insulated tote on an empty chair. "You're family, he's not."

"He's a doctor, I'm not," Mike responds while he leans back in his chair and stretches before standing up. "Listen, since you two are here now, I'm going to go find the cafeteria and get a sandwich or something."

"I brought you some dinner," Cathy tells him as she points the tote she had put on the chair.

"I'm going to see what's going on," Stuart states to no one as he marches over to the nurse's station.

"Thanks, Cathy, I'm starved," Mike says while he quickly gets a still warm container out and she hands him some cutlery and a napkin from a bag that she has over her shoulder. "I see you brought another one for Hank. That's good. He's probably hungrier than I am."

"I brought that for Amy, not Hank," Cathy says, a poisonous tone in her voice at Hank's name.

"That's a shame, considering the man probably saved Amy's life," he muses as he starts to dig in.

"I'm sure she would have been fine," she retorts. "She was always getting banged up as a kid and she didn't die then."

"I saw her, Cathy," he quietly states, his tanned face going a bit pale. "She didn't look good."

"If it wasn't for Hank, none of this would have happened," she huffs.

"You're right," he replies. "If Hank hadn't given up his vacation in Vermont to bring Amy down here, none of this would have happened."

"You know what I mean," she snaps.

"I know that Hank and Amy aren't completely to blame for what happened," he points out. "I love Annie, but she's got a temper that makes a Tasmanian devil look calm and I have yet to hear you or Stuart tell Annie she's wrong about anything in all of the years I've been married to her. Amy isn't an angel by any stretch of the definition, but neither is Annie."

"How can you say that about your own wife?" she demands in a huff.

"Easy, I live with her," he tells her. "When we're home, she's a totally different person then when we're at you're house. I guess I've gotten so used to it, that until Hank showed up, I hadn't even bothered paying attention to it."

"I don't believe it!" Stuart fumes as he comes stomping back towards them, distracting Cathy from giving her son-in-law a dressing down.

"What's the matter?" Cathy asks.

"They won't let me back there," Stuart snarls. "They let that giant hairball back there, but not her own father."

Before anyone can respond to him, Hank comes through the doors to the back and then heads for the nurse's station. He talks briefly with the lady behind the counter and then starts to head towards the waiting area. When he sees who else is there, he pauses only a moment before continuing towards them with a carefully controlled neutral expression on his face.

"Mike, may I please have my keys back?" Hank requests and Mike quickly fishes the requested item out of his pocket. "Thank you for driving us here."

"Not a problem," Mike replies with a mouth half full of food and spotting a bandage on one of Hank's hands. "What happened to your hand?"

"When I went to hold Amanda down so they could sedate her, she bit me," Hank answers as he slides his keys back into his own pocket. "It seems she wasn't exaggerating when she told me that she doesn't like needles. Most of my time spent back there was so they could clean out my wound. With my healing factor it's not really necessary, but it made them feel better."

"So I see her opinion hasn't changed about needles," Mike says while he loads up his fork again. "How's she doing?"

"The shock and hypothermia have mostly been dealt with," Hank replies, trying to keep his stomach from growling and Beast isn't too happy about the lack of food either. "The gash in her head only needed a few stitches and her wrist only needs a cast so they won't have to operate. When I left they were putting the finishing touches on her cast."

"When do think they're going to let her go?" Mike asks.

"It's hard to say, but I believe they intend to keep her for the night," Hank responds, studiously ignoring her parents as much as they are ignoring him.

"What do you think would have happened if you hadn't gone looking for her?" Mike casually inquires just as Hank's cell phone starts to ring.

"She would have been dead before morning," Hank tells him as he fishes the phone out of his pocket and looks at the caller ID. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to take this call in private."

Without another word, Hank walks out to door, never seeing the shocked looks on Cathy and Stuart's faces or the grim one on Mike's.


	67. Merry Christmas pt 7

**Author's Notes:** This has got to be the longest Christmas ever. A big thank you to Snape's Opera Rose, Coffeelvr72, Takerslady, Jinx of the 2nd Law, kudokuchan69, Book Readin' Vixen, theNightEnchantress, Mythigal and Book Readin' Vixen again for your great reviews.

* * *

"Hello, dear friend, how are you?" he greets as soon as he picks up the call, turning his collar up against the chilly wind.

"Merry Christmas, Hank," Ororo replies happily. "How's Vermont?"

"I wouldn't know," he answers as he trudges along the snow covered walk outside of the hospital. "I'm in Virginia right now."

"What are you doing in Virginia?" she asks in surprise.

"That's a rather long and detailed story," he replies with a sigh and she can tell from the tone in his voice he needs to talk.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" she suggests.

"I wouldn't want to bore you," he says as he finds a bench and clears it of snow

"Hank, you could never bore me," she gently assures him as she gets comfortable more in her chair. "Now tell me. What's bothering you?"

With a sad sigh, he settles down on the cold, hard seat and starts to tell her about his unexpected detour.

* * *

"She could have died, 'Ro," he says sadly some time later after relating his story to his old friend. "If I had gone after her when I wanted to, she wouldn't be in the hospital with a broken arm and a concussion."

"If you hadn't gone after her at all like her family wanted, then she wouldn't have survived," she points out. "You saved her life, Hank. Don't beat yourself up over what could have been."

"I suppose you're right," he sighs just as Mike comes around the corner of the building.

"Of course I am," she teases and he has to chuckle. "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know," he answers as Mike steps up to him. "It all depends on what Amanda wants to do. Excuse me a moment, 'Ro, there's someone here who wants to talk to me. Yes, Mike, what is it?"

"Thought you'd like to know that they've moved Amy to a room and that they're planning on keeping her for the night just like you thought they would," Mike tells him, trying not to shiver as a stray breeze seems to shoot an icy blast down the neck of his jacket.

"Thank you, give me a moment to end this call and I'll go up and see her," Hank replies as he lifts the phone towards his ear once more. "'Ro? I need to go now."

"Ok, you take care of yourself," she responds. "I hope things get better."

"Thanks, 'Ro, so do I," he says as he stands up. "Bye and merry Christmas."

"Bye," she replies and he closes his phone a second later before turning to the other man.

"How is she?" Hank asks as Mike turns and starts to lead him back inside.

"The doctor confirmed what you said," Mike answers, trying not to slip. "If she hadn't been found, she would have been dead before morning from hypothermia. That really unnerved Cathy and Stuart. I've never seen them so shaken."

"They thought I was lying?" Hank inquires as the doors automatically open and a wave of warm air hits them.

"I think they were hoping you were exaggerating," Mike replies while they walk past the waiting room and start down a hallway.

"I would never exaggerate about something like that," Hank tells him sincerely as they reach the elevators, a bit peeved that anyone would think such a thing.

"Here, the girls gave this to Cathy before she came here," Mike says as he pulls a prescription bottle out of his pocket and hands it Hank. "Do you know anything about it?"

Hank pulls his glasses out of the pocket inside of his jacket, puts them on and reads the small printed label as the elevator doors open with a 'ding'.

"It's a prescription for anti-depressants," Hank replies while they step into the small compartment. "I was unaware that Amanda was taking them."

"Neither did we," Mike tells him as he pushes the button for the fifth floor.

"How did the girls know about this?" Hank inquires as he hands back the pills and takes his glasses off.

"They said they found them in a new hiding spot in Amanda's closet," Mike answers with a shrug.

The elevator stops at the fifth floor and they continue their journey in silence until they reach a room about half way down the hallway. They step in and find Cathy in the chair next to the bed, her eyes red and puffy from recent crying, with Stuart standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders and a worried look on his face. They're both staring at the bed's occupant and the two men also turn their attention to the woman laying there.

Her dark hair seems to be all that keeps her face from blending in with the pillow beneath her head, the bandage on her forehead stands out like white flag of surrender and the bright red scratches across her cheek are a stark reminder of how it all started. Though the blankets are pulled up to her chin hiding what she's wearing, Hank knows that she must be wearing a hospital gown because with the exception of her coat and panties, the rest of her clothing was cut away so they could work on getting her warm and to move her broken arm as little as possible. Even though she is sleeping, he can see they've already strapped her arms down to keep her from tearing out the IV in the back of her hand and while it is disturbing, he knows it's a necessary evil.

Beast whimpers with worry and it takes quite of bit of self control for Hank not to echo him. He's so mesmerized by her current condition that he doesn't even realize he has moved until he reaches out and starts to gently stroke her hair. He leans over and softly kisses her forehead, noting the smell of the iodine and the woods mixed in with her own scent and then carefully touches his forehead to hers. He ignores the tear that slides down his cheek until it lands on her face and then he softly brushes it away with his thumb, completely oblivious to everyone and everything else.

"Here, have a seat, Hank," Mike offers as he pushes a chair closer to Hank's legs, startling the large mutant out of his revere.

"I'm fine, thank you," Hank assures him, not moving so much as an inch.

"Please, Hank, you've been hovering over her for the past ten minutes," Mike nearly pleads. "You're making _my_ back hurt just watching you."

Hank turns to offer the seat to Mike and sees that everyone else is already seated, waiting for him to do the same. He sheds his coat before hesitantly taking a seat across from Cathy and then he goes back to stroking her hair as soon as he's settled. He ignores her parents, especially any nasty looks Stuart might be sending his way, so when a container of food is thrust in front of him, he nearly jumps.

"Thank you," Hank murmurs as he takes the offered item and carefully opens it.

"Thank you for saving her," Cathy softly says while she hands over cutlery for him to use.

"I could do little else," Hank responds as he carefully stabs some food onto his fork.

"I know you must think we're horrible parents," Cathy starts.

"What I think is of little importance right now," Hank quietly replies and then quickly stuffs his fork in his mouth to prevent himself from uttering what he's really thinking.

"You should know that when Annie was very young she became very sick," Cathy tells him and all he can do is nod that he understands. "For a while we thought we were going to lose her, but a miracle came to us in the form of a doctor with an experimental treatment. We had tried everything else, so we had nothing left to lose. I won't bore you with the details, but obviously the treatment work and Annie survived. However, Annie was always getting sick with every little thing, so eventually we moved out to the country so she wouldn't get sick so often."

"Amanda told me about Annie's illness on our first date," Hank finally states after a lengthy pause. "She told me that was when she developed her...dislike...for needles. She also stated that the reason you moved was because that Stuart had become sick of the rat race and that you didn't like the way the schools were teaching."

"Those were also factors," Cathy assures him a bit too hastily. "But Annie's health was our main reason. She was always delicate after her illness."

"I know that I've only known Annie for a few days, but she seems perfectly healthy now," Hank points out as he cuts up his meat. "However, since I have not examined her, nor run any tests on her, I am only basing this on my observations."

"According to her doctor, Annie's healthy as a horse," Mike puts in, leaning back in his chair and seeing how his in-laws react to that.

"I know Annie isn't a sickly little girl anymore, but old habits do die hard," Cathy admits with a sigh. "It doesn't help that Amy delights in tormenting her sister whenever she can."

Hank goes back to eating, knowing full well that if he were to say anything, it would more than likely alienate these people even further from him. Silence descends upon the room like a heavy fog with the only sounds coming from Hank as he eats his dinner as quietly as he can. As Hank is finishing the last morsel of food for which his stomach is grateful for, Mike excuses himself to call Annie.

"Thank you, it was delicious," Hank says as he hand back the dirty container and cutlery.

"You're welcome," Cathy replies as she takes the items back. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Haaannnnng," Amanda moans and all heads quickly turn in her direction.

"I'm right here, love," Hank quietly answers her as he stands to be nearer and starts stroking her hair again.

"Huuurrd," Amanda slurs, turning her head towards the sound of his voice while he pushes the button for the nurse.

"I know it hurts, love, the nurse on the way," he assures her, moving his face closer to hers and he can 'hear' Beast whimpering in the back of his mind again.

She finally cracks her eyes open to stare at him blearily and then tries to reach out and touch him. She gets a scowl on her face as she tries to move her arm again and still can't get it loose. She makes an unhappy sound in her throat as she tries to free her arm from its restraint and Hank carefully holds the arm still.

"Just relax, Amanda," Hank softly instructs as his free hand gently cups her face to keep her looking at him.

"Can't move," she whimpers and he can hear her heart starting to beat faster as her breathing speeds up.

"You're alright, my love, just lie still," he quietly tells her, conveying as much soothing calm with his voice and his touch.

"Hank's right, Amy," Cathy briskly puts in and inwardly Hank cringes. "You need to hold still or you'll pull your IV out."

Hank silently prays that Amanda is still too addled to understand what her mother has just said, but a second later he can feel her body tensing under his hands as her heart rate and breathing skyrocket and he braces himself for the inevitable. With a scream that leaves his ears ringing, she starts thrashing around, trying to break free. He quickly grabs her left forearm to keep her from hurting that injury any further just as she tries to push herself off the top of the bed with her legs. He leans more of his weight onto her to keep her still and she lets out another shriek. When trying to push herself off of the bed doesn't get her anywhere, she starts wildly kicking, sending the blankets every which way and not caring who or what she's hitting.

"What's going on here?" a nurse demands, drawn more from the screaming than the fact the call button that had been pushed. "Sir, please get off of the patient."

"I will gladly let her go," Hank grunts as a knee connects with his ribs, "once she's either sedated or the IV has been removed. She has aichmophobia and she will not calm down until she's either sedated or the needle has been removed from her person."

"I don't have the doctor's ok to remove the IV," she states, a bit surprised by his response.

"Then I suggest you get a sedative into her and quickly if you please," he strongly suggests, his voice a bit strained.

The nurse quickly leaves and a moment later, Mike comes rushing in.

"I heard the screaming all the way down the hall," Mike says as he stays clear of the thrashing legs. "What can I do to help?"

"Would you please grab her legs and hold them down?" Hank requests in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Uh, yeah, right," Mike hesitantly replies as he approaches the bed, trying not to get kicked himself. "How about you hold down her legs and I'll hold down the top half?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Hank tells him with slightly forced pleasantness.

"Why not?" Mike asks as he dodges a foot that goes whizzing past his head.

"Because her teeth are rather deeply embedded in my sweater and I'm afraid that she has quite a few of my arm hairs trapped in there as well," Hank replies with a small grunt as she kicks him again. "Could someone please grab a hold of her her legs?"

"Ok, Stuart, mind helping me here?" Mike requests as he makes a grab for the closer leg.

It takes several tries, but the two men finally wrestle her legs back down onto the bed and she immediately starts screaming again. Hank tries to think of a way to get her to bite him again since she's giving him the granddaddy of all headaches with her shrieking right next to his sensitive ear. She continues to struggle despite the weight of three men on top of her and Hank silently urges the nurse to hurry up.

"That's enough, young lady!" Cathy sternly tells Amanda between screams. "You're make a spectacle of yourself!"

"She can't hear you," Hank nearly growls, barely keeping his anger in check. "She's too frightened to understand anything right now."

Before she can retort, a doctor, two nurses and three orderlies come charging into the room and Hank quietly thanks the universe that the other bed in the room is empty since its quickly becoming claustrophobic in there.

"What's going on?" the doctor demands, staring in horror at the three men holding down the one woman.

"Amanda has aichmophobia and as such, we're keeping her from harming herself," Hank calmly explains just before Amanda lets out another ear piercing shriek.

"She has what?" the doctor asks in confusion.

"Aichmophobia," Hank repeats as he shoves his shoulder closer to her mouth in hopes that she'll bite that instead of screaming again. "She's deathly afraid of needles. Now please do something or I will have take action just for the sake of saving my hearing."

Without another word, the doctor holds out a hand to one of the nurses and she immediately lays a filled syringe in his palm. He then goes over to the bed where he wedges himself between Hank and Mike and then quickly slides the needle into the catheter on the back of her hand. He depresses the plunger as quickly as he safely can and she lets out another scream as she tries to arch off of the bed, trying to buck them off.

The doctor steps back, hands the empty syringe to one of the nurses and then waits to see if the drug works. Within a couple minutes, her struggles lessen and the screams turn into sad whimpers. Hank, Stuart and Mike carefully loosen their hold on her and Hank looks down at her face to see eyes filled with emotional hurt and pain staring back at him.

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispers as he goes back to stroking her hair, barely noticing Cathy straightening out the bed clothes.

"You promised," she whimpers with a sniff as a tear slides down her cheek and the guilt from earlier hits him again.

"I know, love, I know," he sadly murmurs as he gently nuzzles her cheek with his nose. "Sleep now, you need to let your body heal."

She lets out a few more sad noises before the drug finally pulls her under and with a sigh that's part relief and part regret, he retakes his sit next to her bed again as he takes her limp fingers in his. He half listens as he hears the doctor telling one of the nurses to keep Amanda sedated during the night and to remove the IV before she wakes in the morning. He's relieved that her doctor has enough sense to make sure his patient doesn't need a full body restraint.

"Such a shameful display," Cathy huffs as she sits back down and Hank does his best to ignore her. "Once this gets out we'll be the laughingstock of the whole town again. It wasn't bad enough that she had to embarrass us when she was a teenager, but she even does it now that she's supposedly an adult."

"Right, I'm sure that's exactly what Amy was thinking when she fell down into the ravine," Mike retorts as he suddenly launches himself to his feet and heads for the door. "How can I embarrass my parents so everyone will laugh at them? Yeah, I bet that's exactly what she was thinking."

"Where are you going?" Stuart demands, Cathy too shocked by Mike's outburst to say anything.

"The bathroom," Mike responds, barely pausing to answer. "I'm feeling sick to my stomach."

With that, Mike marches out of the room, leaving Hank to deal with Amanda's parents and all of their hangups.

* * *

"'Ro, whatcha doin' in here?" Logan asks, poking his head around her office door.

"Thinking," she answers, not bothering to look at the man, but continuing to stare into space with a frown wrinkling her brow.

"About what?" he questions, stepping further into the room.

"About something Hank said," she replies as she taps a manicured nail on the desk.

"Which was?" he prompts, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms across his chest waiting.

"He mentioned a name and I know I heard it somewhere before, but I can't remember where," she mutters, her frown deepening.

"Well, can ya remember a little faster?" he encourages. "The natives are getting restless for the party ta start."

"Is it that time already?" she asks in surprise as she looks over at the clock on the wall.

"Accordin' ta Jubilee, you're takin' like forever," he snorts.

"Patience never was one of Jubilee's strong suits," she chuckles as she gets up and heads for the door. "Come, Logan, let's go spread some holiday cheer."

"My holiday cheer is cold and comes in a six pack," he mutters under his breath.

"Just keep that cheer in your room," she warns as they head down the hallway towards the library.

"Yes, Mom," he retorts.

She just shakes her head with a sigh and a small smile and goes to get the Christmas party started; the name and Hank's problems temporarily forgotten.


	68. Boxing Day pt 1

**Author's Notes: ** For those interested, I've updated my Author's Page again, but not with another rebuttal. However, what is there, is important to me, so if you feel so inclined, go ahead and have a look. Big thanks to my reviewers: Takerslady, theNightEnchantress, Farire, Coffeelvr72, kudokuchan69, snape's opera rose, Mythigal and Neotoma.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" he asks nervously, Beast not helping with its need to just steal her away and hide her. "I don't want..."

"Hank, please," she sighs, shifting slightly in her seat to try and get more comfortable. "This has been a long time coming. It's been like an abscess that's needed to be drained for ages."

"How lucky is it that I just happen to be a doctor," he jokes and he feels slightly better when he sees her smile, even though it's just a small one.

"I'm sorry you got caught in the middle," she tells him sadly. "I just hope it helps wake my parents up to the fact that I'm my own person and I want to be treated as such."

"And if it doesn't?" he questions, mindful of the freshly plowed roads. "They certainly weren't happy when you insisted on going back with me and not them, though they did back down when you pointed out that you're an adult, so there is hope."

"I'd like to say that I'm better off without them, but they are my family" she replies in a melancholy tone as she carefully cradles her broken arm. "I don't know what I'm going to do. All I do know is that I can't stay under that roof with them for any longer than is absolutely necessary."

"What do you intend to do once you're back in New York?" he inquires while he makes the final turn onto the road her parents live on.

"Bury myself in my work," she answers, staring dully out the window of the car. "It's the only thing I can think of to help me get through this since I can't do much else with a busted arm."

"Yes, I imagine it would be rather difficult to clean while you can sort out your problems," he responds and she finally turns to look at him, a confused look on her face.

"How did you know that I clean when I need to think things out?" she asks, her brow wrinkling into a frown.

"I'm sure you must have mentioned it once or twice," he answers, mentally kicking himself for slipping like that.

"When?" she questions suspiciously.

"I don't recall the exact time and place," he replies and he's actually grateful as he pulls up in front of her parents' house. "Are you ready?"

"No, but the sooner we get this over with, the better," she sighs, looking like she'd face a hoard of hungry lions then her own family.

He nods his reluctant agreement, turns off the engine and then carefully gets out of the car, making sure to not jar the car when he shuts the door. He quickly makes his way around to her side and he can see her taking deep calming breaths through the window. He gently helps her out of the car and no sooner is she out then the twins come barreling out of the house. He barely manages to get himself between Amanda and the charging girls and they run into him instead of their intended target.

"I'm sorry, girls, but I can't let you run into your aunt like that," he gently tells them when they look up at him with confusion in their eyes. "She's very sore from yesterday's fall and you'll hurt her if you charge into her like you normally do."

They look up at him with big, wide eyes for a moment and then look around him at their aunt. They can see the tip of her cast peeking out from her coat sleeve and the bandage on her forehead does little to hid the growing bruise there. Amanda gives the girls a sad smile as they carefully walk around Hank to their aunt and they gently wrap their arms around her middle once they reach Amanda. They immediately bury their faces in her coat and start crying.

"We're sorry, Aunt Amy."

"Please don't go."

"It's all our fault that you got hurt."

"Please don't go."

"We're sorry."

"Please don't go."

"Girls, let's go inside where it's warm," Amanda suggests, rubbing her hands up and down their backs as best she can while Hank tries to figure out which girl said what.

They head for the porch with the twins still firmly holding onto their aunt where they find Cathy and Mike waiting for them. Cathy doesn't look happy, but she leads them inside without a word and Mike looks like he could use a few more hours sleep if the bags under his eyes are any indication. Hank keeps a close eye on his lady, watching to make sure she doesn't stumble or worse yet, fall.

Once they're inside the warm house and she's managed to dislodge the girls, Hank carefully helps Amanda take her coat off, being very mindful of her broken arm. She removes the one glove she can wear and her scarf as the silence in the house starts to get a bit nerve wracking for him. As soon as she's free of her outer garments, she slowly makes her way into the living room, the twins shadowing her all the way.

She takes a seat in the middle cushion of the couch and the girls immediately flank her, taking a seat on either side. She pulls them as close as she can, gently kissing the top of their heads as they get more comfortable. Hank, Cathy and Mike also take seats and Hank notes that Annie, Paul and Stuart are either not in the house or are keeping very quiet so he can't hear them.

"Girls, what happened to me is not your fault," Amanda tells them in a gentle but firm voice. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"But you and Mom had that fight because of us," Bethany points out with a sniff.

"Your mother and I have been having fights most of our lives," Amanda replies.

"But not like this," Beverly whimpers. "Mom's never slapped you before."

"Yes she has," Amanda tells her. "When we were growing up, we used to have fights that make a couple alley cats look calm. We've mellowed a bit with age, but we still have arguments."

"But not like this," Bethany sobs just before burying her face in Amanda's shoulder.

Beverly follows suit and a moment later, Amanda can feel her top getting wet and all she can do is hold them closer. One of the girls squeezes her a bit tighter and she winces as one of her many bruises protests being touched. Mike and Hank both start to get up and she shakes her head at them while she holds the girls a little bit closer as best she can.

"Where's Paul?" Amanda asks after the girls calm down again.

"Annie found him hiding in your room late last night," Mike hesitantly tells her. "It looks like he was...playing his new game on your computer and then passed out at some point. He's still pretty tired and Annie's upstairs with him right now."

"I told him not to do that on my computer," Amanda sighs sadly with a shake of her head. "Not that Annie would believe me if I told her."

"Aunt Amy, what happened to your hand?" Beverly questions, effectively cutting off any further discussion of Paul.

"I broke my wrist," Amanda answers.

"I know that," Beverly pouts. "I meant your other hand. There's a big old bandage on it."

"That's where the IV was," Amanda replies, her discomfort very evident in her voice and a shiver runs up her spine.

"I must say you put on quite the show for the hospital staff," Cathy huffs. "It's probably half way across town by now. I know you don't live here any more, but please have consideration for your father and I who do."

"You thought I was faking it?" Amanda demands, the memory of the needle in her hand and her mother's current attitude making it very hard to maintain control.

"You were definitely being melodramatic about the whole thing," Cathy sniffs. "You didn't used to act that way when you had to have your shots when you were a child."

"That's because I got those shots before you let those _vampires_ at me," Amanda snarls through clenched teeth as carefully disentangles herself from the twins.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Cathy states in confusion while Amanda slowly stands up.

"Remember when Annie had her...incident when we were fourteen?" Amanda snaps and Cathy looks at her in confusion for a few moments before realization dawns on her face.

"But that was nearly sixteen years ago," Cathy blurts out in surprise.

"I don't care if it was sixty years ago," Amanda growls as she glares at her mother. "The fact of the matter remains that not only did they force me to give that blood sample, but you told them to do it and then stood there watching with that disapproving look on your face that you seem to have reserved only for me. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go pack."

Before anyone can react, Amanda marches out of the room as best she can and then heads upstairs, leaving those behind rather stunned by her outburst. The adults are shaken out of their dazed states by the sound of the girls starting to cry again and Mike immediately goes and takes Amanda's spot on the couch. Hank looks over at the other man and he looks as confused as Hank feels.

"Might I ask what happened almost sixteen years ago?" Hank quietly requests.

"It was a family matter," Cathy stiffly tells him and all but launches herself out of her seat before quickly leaving the room.

"Interesting," Hank mutters to himself before turning his attention to Mike with a hopeful look.

"Whatever happened, happened before I knew them," Mike tells him while he tries to calm his distraught daughters. "I could ask Annie, but I doubt she's in a mood to talk about it and quite frankly, I'm not in the mood for another fight."

"Yes, it does look like you didn't get much sleep last night," Hank observes, intent on getting to the bottom of all of the confusion.

"Cathy and Stuart need to invest in newer couches," Mike grumbles. "The ones they have now are murder on the back."

"Why didn't you just go and use the bed I had been sleeping in?" Hank inquires, a bit bewildered. "I certainly wasn't going to be using it since I checked into the hotel near the hospital."

"Stuart was sleeping in there since he and Cathy had a disagreement about God only knows what," Mike grumbles. "Sleeping in Amy's bed would have just been too weird and Paul tends move around a lot when he sleeps, so it was the couch for me."

"For what it is worth, I am sorry," Hank softly sighs. "I didn't mean to cause such an upheaval."

"It's not your fault, Hank," Mike assures him. "Something's up with Annie and whatever it is has got her really on edge."

"Besides me being here?" Hank questions with a tilt of his head.

"Besides you being here," Mike confirms. "I just wish I knew what was up with her."

Before Hank can respond, he hears Amanda calling for him.

* * *

She firmly shuts the door behind her and then leans against it as she tries to regain her composure. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest as the memory of the day she really learned what fear is swims around in her head like a hungry shark. It takes all of her will power not to collapse into a useless mess on the floor as she remembers how helpless she felt and several tears leave their wet tracks down her cheeks as her body shakes from the memories.

"Pull it together, girl," she growls to herself as she hastily wipes the tears away. "They're gone and they can't hurt you anymore."

She roughly shoves herself away from the door and then steadies herself against the wall as a case of the vertigo hits her. She waits until her vision clears, seething at herself for being so weak and for letting her family get to her once again. Once she's sure she's not going to fall down, she stumbles over to the closet and pulls out her bags.

Caring only for speed and not giving a damn about neatness, she crams her clothes into her bags as fast as she can. After barely getting her bags zipped up, she goes to pack away her art supplies and her computer, but the desk is conspicuously bare of any laptops. She quickly looks around to make sure she somehow moved it without remembering, but comes up empty.

Then she remembers what Mike told her earlier. With a snarl rumbling out of her throat, she tries to storm out of her room and heads down the hallway towards the room her nephew has been using. She does her best to ignore the throbbing pain in her head and wrist and opens the door with a bit more force then necessary, startling Annie by doing so. Annie's eyes narrow as the two women glare at each other for a few moments.

"Where's my computer?" Amanda demands.

"How should I know?" Annie retorts as she goes back to the cross stitch in her hands. "I'm not the keeper of your things."

"No, you just happen to be the _taker_ of my things whenever you get into one of your little snits," Amanda growls. "So where the Hell is it?"

"And you eat with that mouth?" Annie scoffs.

"Listen you whiny, little brat, thanks to you I got to spend the night in the hospital with a needle stuck in my hand and strapped to a bed," Amanda snarls, moving further into the room. "I have my arm in a cast and a headache the size of Mount Rushmore, so I'm in no mood for your little games. Where is my computer?"

"You can have it when you leave," Annie huffs.

"That's what I'm trying to do, you...," Amanda starts, but a whimper from the bed draws her attention away from her sister. "Sweet Jesus, he looks horrible."

"No thanks to you, he's been unconscious since I found him late last night," Annie snaps, though her voice is full of worry as she looks down at her son. "And he's been getting worse."

Amanda barely hears her sister as she looks down at the boy in the bed. He's very pale and there's a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. She moves closer and gently brushes some of his hair off of his face, gasping in surprise when she makes skin to skin contact.

"He's been like this since last night?" Amanda asks, worry clearly etched on her face.

"He's been sweating since around dawn and the whimpering he only started a couple of hours ago," Annie softly admits.

"Aren't you going to take him to the doctor?" Amanda questions, fear starting to clutch at her heart.

"And tell them what?" Annie demands, finally looking up at her sister with her eyes narrowed. "That he knocked himself out wandering around the Internet? He just over exerted himself. He'll wake up when he's rested."

"Annie, he's burning up, he needs to see a doctor," Amanda shoots back.

"I can't take the risk that someone will find out," Annie whispers miserably, her shoulders slumping as she looks down at her son again. "I don't want him to live with the hate so many people have for us."

"Luckily, I happen to know someone who can keep a secret and he makes house calls," Amanda replies as she turns to leave the room, shaking off the vertigo from spinning around too fast.

"Where are you going?" Annie demands, getting up from her seat.

"To make a call," Amanda answers as she steps out into the hall. "Hank! Come up here please."

"No! I don't want him up here," Annie hisses as she grabs Amanda's arm.

"Why not?" Amanda inquires, trying not to flinch as Annie squeezes one of her many bruises. "He's a doctor, he can keep a secret and he happens to be here. Convenient that."

"But if he finds out that Paul's a mutant, he'll take him away," Annie nearly sobs, clutching even harder. "Just like they did with me."

"The reason Xavier came for you was because you were a danger to yourself and everyone around you," Amanda points out as the sound of someone coming up the stairs reaches them. "Now let go. I'm starting to lose feeling in that arm."

Annie gives her one hard glare before letting go and then wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. Hank reaches the top of the stairs with a curious look on his face and he heads towards her with Mike and the girls not that far behind.

"Do you need assistance with something, my dear?" Hank asks, a bit surprised to see her so far from her room and so close to her sister.

"It's Paul," Amanda answers. "He's sick. Could you take a look at him please?"

"I shouldn't examine him without his parent's permission," Hank warns, looking over at the distraught mother

"He hasn't woken up yet?" Mike questions a bit forcefully, staring at Annie who simply shakes her head, unable to look her husband in the eye. "You have my permission to examine him, Hank."

"Very well," Hank replies as he heads towards the door. "I'll see what I can do for him."

Hank steps past Amanda and Annie and into the room, noting the air is stale and bit too warm. A frown furrows his brow when he lays eyes on the boy and he quickly moves to the bedside. With a deft flick of the wrist, the bedclothes are flung to the foot of the bed revealing that Paul is still wearing the clothes from the day before and they and the bedding are all soaked with sweat.

"He's burning up," Hank murmurs worriedly as he lays his hand on Paul's forehead and then peels back an eyelid revealing an eye that's completely black.

"When you found him last night, what was my computer doing?" Amanda demands from her sister.

"I don't know, it was just sitting there," Annie replies defensively. "Was it supposed to be dancing or something?"

"Was it displaying my desktop or was it doing that weird thing with the numbers," Amanda snaps as Cathy joins them.

"I don't know, I don't remember," Annie retorts, nervously casting glances at Hank who's watching them with curiosity.

"Where is my computer!?" Amanda nearly yells.

"Why!?" Annie demands, her eyes glistening with tears. "What's so important about your computer? My son's sick and all you can think about is your stupid computer"

"I want it because if we're lucky, Paul's still in it and not lost to the Internet," Amanda growls her replies.

"Be quiet," Annie hisses, getting right into Amanda's face.

"What's more important to you, Annie?" Amanda asks, her eyes narrowing. "Keeping Paul's abilities a secret or his life?"


	69. Boxing Day pt 2

**Author's Notes: ** Thanks to everyone for the well wishes for doing the LiveStrong Challenge this summer. Very big thanks and virtual hugs go to Mythigal for her donation. I know this chapter is a little shorter than normal, but the place I ended it was just too perfect. As always, thanks to kudokuchan69, snape's opera rose, Takerslady, Jinx of the 2nd Law, Lady Vengeance, Mythigal and Music is my Muse for your reviews.

* * *

"What kind of question is that?" Annie mumbles after staring at her sister in surprise for several seconds.

"One that obviously needs to be asked," Amanda replies softly. "What's gotten into you, Annie? Your son is lying there sick, possibly dying and your worried about someone finding out about his abilities?"

"What is going on?" Cathy asks, confused by the intense, but quiet conversation between her offspring.

"Where is it, Annie?" Amanda requests again, ignoring their mother.

"It's in the girl's room," Annie mutters miserably, her head and shoulders drooping in defeat. "It's on the shelf in their closet, behind the games."

Amanda nods her understanding and then goes to retrieve her property while Annie stands there with tears running down her face. Mike gently pulls his trembling wife into his arms and she starts to sob into his chest. He starts rocking her and talking quiet reassurances into her ear while the twins go over and latch onto their grandmother.

Confused and bewildered, Hank watches all of this from his spot by Paul's bed. For lack of anything better to do, he takes the boy's pulse and worriedly notes that it's fast and faint. He starts to go towards Mike and Annie in hopes of convincing them to call an ambulance when Amanda returns with her laptop in one hand and the power cord in the other.

Baffled, he watches as she quickly brushes past him, sets the small machine up, sits it on the bed next to Paul and then turns it on. Mike and Annie move to the other side of the bed as she does this and a moment later the screen flickers to life. What he expects to see and what is there on the screen are two different things, shocking him enough make his eyebrows rise to near his hairline.

Instead of a normal desktop with wallpaper and icons on the screen, it's black with white ones and zeros streaking from top to bottom. Amanda takes her nephew's hand, places in on the keyboard and then watches him expectedly. After several long moments of nothing happening, Hank opens his mouth to ask what she's expecting to happen when Paul lets out a sudden cry of fear as he swiftly sits up in the bed.

"Mommy," the boy whimpers.

"I'm right here, baby," Annie answers as she takes him into her arms and holds him tight.

Paul clings to her as if his life depends on it, his entire body trembling as he sobs into her shoulder. Mike crawls onto the bed to hold his son from the other side, encompassing his wife into his embrace. A moment later, the twins join them and soon there's a lot of hugging and crying on the bed that has Hank wondering what's just happened.

He looks down at Amanda and sees that she's pressing different keys on her computer, but if the frown on her face is any indication, it's not doing what she wants. He lifts the item off of her lap and turns it around to see what he can do, but stops and stares at the machine in shock instead. The numbers are gone, but instead of wallpaper and icons there is nothing more than a jumble of pixels that he can't make heads or tails of.

"Amanda, I'm a bit...perplexed," he admits, a frown wrinkling his brow now.

"Let's go downstairs and I'll explain," she sighs as she unplugs the computer and then stands up.

He quickly puts a hand under her elbow when she wobbles and she gratefully leans against him as she waits for the latest round of vertigo to pass. Once she's sure she can stand on her own, she carefully leads him out of the room. As they're passing her mother, Amanda's stomach decides to make itself known and Hank's own tummy answers in kind.

"Have you two eaten lunch yet?" Cathy asks, looking at the two of them before her gaze rests on her daughter. "I know you didn't eat much breakfast."

"Could they make hospital food any more bland?" Amanda grumbles as she wraps her arms around herself at the memory of that horrid place.

"I believe the hope was to get something on the way, but Amanda decided that she wanted to come here first," Hank explains while he tucks the laptop under his arm and then makes his way towards the stairs with Amanda right behind him.

"You're still planning on leaving?" Cathy questions sadly as she follows them.

"Can you give me a good reason to stay?" Amanda shoots back, carefully negotiating the steps right behind Hank. "I'm sick of being everyone's kicking dog and I'm not going to put up with it any more. If you want to bow down to Annie's every whim, then fine, but you'll excuse me if I don't curtsy every time she walks into a room. I'm too sore from my roll down that hill yesterday."

"We don't bow down to Annie's every whim," Cathy huffs as she impatiently waits for the other two to get to the bottom. "Hank, could you go a little faster please?"

"I could, but I will not," Hank answers without bothering to look back at the woman. "If Amanda stumbles or falls, I want to be close at hand to help her."

"She's not a child, she can walk down the stairs without help," Cathy grumbles.

"Normally, I would agree with you," Hank replies, continuing his slow descent. "But I've seen the pain pills they've prescribed for her and they can cause drowsiness, vertigo and loss of coordination."

"What's going on?" Stuart asks appearing at the foot of the stairs and Hank can smell wood sap on the other man and sees wood chips stuck to his pants.

"Nothing much," Amanda answers. "Just your daughter trying to kill your grandson is all."

"Oh, stop being so melodramatic," Cathy snaps.

"Why?" Amanda retorts, quickly looking back over her shoulder at her mother and immediately loses her balance.

She falls into Hank's broad back and he easily takes her weight as he reaches behind himself to help steady her. They take the last couple of steps fairly quickly, Hank never relinquishing his hold on her to assure her safety. They both ignore Stuart's scowl as Hank makes sure she's steady again before Amanda turns back to her mother.

"Why shouldn't I be melodramatic?" Amanda demands, her left hand clutching Hank's shirt for more than one kind of support. "It was the only way I could make you notice me when I was growing up. Why should it be any different now? Ever since Annie got sick, all you two have done is cater to her every whim. It was like I didn't even exist any more. Even when she wasn't around, it was like I was invisible unless I did something really outlandish and only then did you either one of you notice me."

"You make us sound like horrible parents," Cathy says, hurt evident in her voice.

"You weren't abusive," Amanda replies heatedly, her body shaking with pent up anger and frustration and Hank's arm slips around her waist to help steady her. "But if Annie so much as sneezed, you two were 'Annie, would you like this; Annie, would you like that; here, Annie, let us kiss your ass while we completely ignore your sister'!"

"Amy!" Cathy gasps. "Really, such language."

"Would mind not pawing my daughter while in my home?" Stuart demands, glaring at Hank.

"I hardly call keeping her from falling down 'pawing'," Hank responds as calmly as he can considering Beast is doing its best to take control and take her away from these people.

"I see you aren't denying what I've said," Amanda snorts while she leans against Hank, her left hand finally releasing his shirt so it can hold onto the arm around her.

"Annie was very delicate as a child after her sickness," Cathy reminds her.

"And of course that's a perfectly good reason to let her dictate my life," Amanda spits back.

"She didn't dictate your life," Cathy scoffs.

"I couldn't get a pet because of her," Amanda points out.

"Yes, you could," Cathy retorts.

"Yeah, if I wanted a cat," Amanda snaps. "The funny thing about that is that all the cats slept in her room and used mine as a litter box. For some silly reason, I'm not much of a cat person now. I wanted a horse, but we couldn't get one because Annie didn't like the smell. I wanted a dog, but we couldn't get one because Annie was afraid it would chase the cats. I couldn't even get a rat because they freaked Annie out!"

"We had the chicken and goats," Cathy weakly defends.

"And what wonderful pets those make," Amanda retorts sarcastically. "I couldn't do anything without her approval either. If I wanted to go to the movies, I only got to go if Annie wanted to see the movie. I wasn't even allowed to go out with just my friends unless it was 'Annie approved'. When we were looking for houses, you picked this one because Annie liked it. Never mind the fact that I hated it, I hated leaving my home and all of my friends and I hated the fact that nobody listed to a damn thing I had to say!"

"It wasn't all that bad," Cathy tries to argue, but not sounding too convinced herself.

"Not for you, maybe," Amanda shoots back. "It's not like if you so much as sneezed wrong, you'd suddenly find yourself in trouble. More often than not, I wasn't even guilty of anything, but because Annie said I did it, then you believed it. How would you have liked to grow up like that, Mom? No matter how hard you tried, you'd always be compared to the 'Golden Child'? Always knowing that nothing you did would ever be good enough in your parent's eyes? That you'd never be seen as an individual, but as an extension of someone else? Try it some time. I can tell you it does a lot of damage to a person's psyche."

"You really thought it was that bad?" Cathy asks in a small voice.

"I didn't think it was that bad," Amanda answers as she sags against Hank, her energy almost spent. "I _know_ it was that bad. I was half expecting you to have my name legally changed to Annie II and no, Mom, I'm not joking about that last part. I can't take this any more. Hank, I want to go home."

"Of course, my love," he assures her, giving her a gentle squeeze with his one arm before loosening his hold. "Is everything packed?"

"Everything but the computer," she tells him.

"Alright, why don't you go sit down and I'll go get your bags from your room," he suggests and she nods her agreement as he starts to lead her into the living room.

"I'm not June Cleaver you know," Cathy snaps, suddenly going on the offensive, following them with Stuart right behind her. "I did the best I could with a sickly child and another who delighted in getting into trouble. I had to nag you to do your chores, your room was always a mess and you were constantly sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night. Do have any idea how embarrassing it was to go to church or the store and have someone come up and tell me what they saw you and your friends doing around town?"

"Did it ever occur to you the the reason I was such a trouble maker was because it was the only way I could get your attention only on me without interference from Annie?" Amanda tiredly asks, leaning heavily on Hank.

"Perhaps this conversation should wait until Amanda is feeling better," Hank suggests as he tries to lead her away from her parents.

He can see the rebellious look on Cathy's face as she draws in a large breath of air and Hank changes directions, heading now for the front door. He refuses to leave her without at least with some protection while he retrieves her luggage and he figures the car is the best he can do on such short notice.

"Aunt Amy?" a new voice softly calls from the bottom of the stairs and all of the adults turn that way.

"Yes, Paul, what is it?" Amanda responds, exhaustion evident in her voice.

"I'm sorry I messed up your computer," Paul says while he steps towards her. "I can try and fix it if you like."

"That would be very nice, thank you," Amanda replies as she gets the laptop from Hank and hands it over to her nephew.

Hank watches in fascination as the boy takes it, opens it up and shortly after getting it powered up, the messed up images reappear on the screen. A look at the boy shows that his pupils have dilated well past what should be normal and Hank watches in fascination as the young mutant before him concentrates on the computer in his hands. After nearly a minute of very little happening, the pixels start so shift and swirl and slowly they reorganize into a more discernible pattern.

"I knew it!" Annie yells causing everyone else to jump. "I knew I'd find you down here! What do you think you're doing?"

Everyone looks at the rampaging woman as she comes storming down the stairs with the exception being her son.

"I'm fixing Aunt Amy's computer," Paul calmly answers, still not looking up.

"Aunt Amy can fix her own computer," Annie snaps as she marches towards her son.

"Doubt it," Paul replies and Hank must admit that the boy is impressing him more and more as the desktop becomes clearer with each passing moment, plus handling his mother at the same time. "Aunt Amy can barely manage to get on the Internet, no way she's going to fix this."

"Thanks a lot," Amanda mutters at her nephew, though not harshly.

"Besides, aren't you always telling me to clean up after myself?" Paul asks, still intently staring at the screen before him.

"Yes," Annie growls as she gets closer to them and Hank not so subtly gets between her and Amanda.

"Then that's what I'm doing," Paul tells his mother. "I'm cleaning up the mess I made in her computer when I couldn't get out."

"I must admit, I am most impressed with this young man's abilities," Hank states as he continues to watch.

"No one asked you," Annie hisses at him and Hank just stares at her, fighting with Beast internally to keep it from chasing the woman away from their mate.

"Back off, Annie," Amanda snarls as she comes around Hank and glares at her sister.

"Make me," Annie challenges.

**WHACK!**

"You hit me," Annie gasps in surprise as her hand comes up to hold the sore spot.

"Felt good too," Amanda retorts rather smugly as she tries to subtly rub the stinging sensation out of her fingers.

"Amanda! How dare you!?" Cathy demands loudly.

"See!? This what I mean!" Amanda shouts at her mother. "You didn't yell at Annie when she slapped me and you even blamed me for it, but when I when I return the favor it's suddenly 'how dare you?'!"

"You hit me!" Annie shouts, still in shock.

"Well, yeah," Amanda snaps back as she points to the scratches on her face. "Give me one good reason not to do it again."

"I'm pregnant!" Annie yells and then slaps her own hand over her mouth as her eyes go wide in horror.

That last outburst actually drags Paul's attention away from the computer and he stares at his mother with wide green eyes. Nobody says anything for many long seconds and Hank wonders why people aren't congratulating the woman. He takes a quick look around and sees nothing but shocked faces until he spots Mike at the foot of the stairs with a look that's a mixture of anger and sadness.

"What do you mean you're pregnant?" Mike nearly growls which acts like a starting pistol to get everyone talking at once.

"I swear I didn't...," Annie tries to start, literally throwing herself at her husband.

"Aren't three of us enough!?" Paul demands as his mother grabs his father's shirt front in her fists.

"I would never...," Annie cries, tears starting to trickle out of her eyes, but Mike just glares at her, his arms unmoving.

"Annie, how could you?" Cathy nearly sobs and Stuart looks like he's torn between killing something and crying himself.

"I swear I haven't...," Annie wails as the tears flow freely down her cheeks.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Amanda quietly chuckles, sounding rather evil to Hank's ears.

"May I ask what's going on?" Hank requests in a slightly louder than normal voice.

"A few years ago, Annie told Mike she didn't want to risk having any more kids," Amanda replies, sounding very smug. "So, with much grumbling and cringing, Mike went and had a vasectomy."


	70. Boxing Day pt 3

**Author's Notes 1: ** So I posted that last chapter and then went out to dinner and a movie with my husband. When I left, I had something like seven messages in my in box and when I got home there was over twenty messages waiting for me. Thank you Lirael Abhorsen, theNightEnchantress, Jinx of the 2nd Law, maraluch, Takerslady, Descia, Flarire, xdanishxpastryx, Mythigal, kudokuchan69, Coffeelvr 72, GabrielsDoubt, Music is my Muse, Kaitar J'Khara and dog youkai jane. You guys are the best.

* * *

For over twenty years she's had to watch her parents put her sister on a pedestal while it felt like she was almost completely forgotten and ignored. More than twenty years of knowing that no matter what she did, it would never be good enough in her parent's eyes. Twenty plus years of living in her sister's shadow and always being compared, usually unfavorably, to Annie has at the best of times, been a real pain in the ass. The delight of watching her sister come crashing off of her pedestal in less than twenty seconds is an absolutely heady, priceless experience and she almost giggles at the giddy feeling.

"Here, I fixed your computer," a voice grumbles from nearby.

She turns towards it and she can see the look of hurt and anger on the boy's face. She can feel her stomach drop to somewhere below the basement and she reaches for her nephew, ignoring the laptop he's trying to hand her. While her sister definitely deserves to be brought down a few hundred pegs, Mike and the kids don't deserve this pain or the humiliation.

"Paul," she barely whispers as her world suddenly tilts at a strange angle.

She stumbles a step towards him before the world begins spinning and it become harder to see the boy's face. She can see him trying to say something to her, but it sounds like he's a hundred miles away. She tries to reach for him just as everything goes dark and she knows no more.

* * *

The gloating in her voice disturbs him greatly, but before he can say anything about it, the twins arrive on the scene. With their arrival, more voices are added to the yelling and crying and he cringes as his sensitive ears are assaulted with the volume that seems to be going up every second. So intent on his own pain, he barely notices anything going on right in front of him until he hears Paul worriedly calling his aunt's name. Only his lightning fast reflexes keep her from crashing to the floor and he gently pulls her limp form in his arms as he ascertains her condition.

"What happened?" Hank asks Paul.

"I don't know," Paul answers, clearly upset. "I was trying to give her her computer back and then she looked at me funny and her eyes rolled up into her head and then she fell down."

"What's wrong with Amy?" Mike inquires as he tries to dislodge Annie's fingers from his person.

"It seems she's fainted," Hank replies as he carries her into the living room. "I imagine the combination of her injuries, the drugs, the lack of food and this most recent bit of excitement has been a bit too much for her."

"Where are you taking her?" Stuart demands and Hank beats Beast back down before answering.

"The couch," Hank responds calmly while he carefully lays her on the aforementioned piece of furniture. "Fainting is caused by a sudden lack of blood flow to the brain. Lying her down with her feet elevated should alleviate the problem."

"You said lack of food," Cathy states, latching onto something that she can handle. "Would eating help?"

"Once she wakes, yes," Hank says as he slides a cushion under her feet.

"Then I'll go make some lunch for the two of you," Cathy offers and then hurries out of the room.

Slightly relieved that there's at least one less person staring at him and watching his every movie, he perches on the edge of the couch near her head. He can practically feel Stuart glaring at him as he gently brushes the hair out of Amanda's face and he's in no mood to play diplomat, so he just ignores the older man. Briefly he smiles to himself as he remembers her warnings and he has to admit that at this particular moment, she's right. Her family is nuts.

He hears the twins sniffing off to one side and he glances over at them where he can see them clinging to each other. Paul doesn't look much better than his sisters, but he's managing to hold it together. Hank glances at Annie and Mike and finds her clinging to his arm, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Please, Mike," Annie begs.

"Who is it, Annie?" Mike demands. "How did you manage to do it with the kids always at home? How did you keep it from them? Why did you do it?"

"There isn't any one else," Annie wails. "I swear! I would never..."

"Then how do you explain...this?" Mike snarls as he points at her abdomen.

"If I may," Hank interjects before there can be any more yelling. "On very rare occasions, vasectomies have been known to spontaneously reverse themselves. I suggest having yourself tested, Mike, before you accuse your wife of any impropriety and risk damaging your marriage any further."

"You think that's what's happened?" Mike asks, calming slightly.

"It seems the most likely cause," Hank answers as he starts to stroke Amanda's hair, barely even aware that he's doing it.

"Would mind not pawing my daughter?" Stuart snaps and Hank belatedly realizes what he's doing.

"I hardly call stroking her hair 'pawing'," Hank grumbles quietly while he stops his actions.

"Don't stop," Amanda softly murmurs as her eyes slowly open.

"How are you feeling?" Hank asks, smiling down at her.

"Not so good," she answers as she tries to focus on his face. "What happened?"

"You fainted," he tells her.

"Great," she grumbles. "So much for being the strong one."

Before he has a chance to question her about her comment, Cathy returns with a couple plates piled high with food. Hank stands and relieves the woman of her burden, smiling his thanks.

"Do you think you can sit up and eat?" Hank inquires as he looks down at her and immediately has to slam an anxious Beast back.

"I think so," Amanda replies.

She slowly starts to sit up and the girls come over to help her, only to be stopped by Hank.

"She needs to do it on her own," Hank explains, watching Amanda carefully as she slowly rights herself. "Only she can gage how fast she can go. If someone pulls her up too quickly, she could faint again."

It takes her about a minute to get upright and she doesn't look too happy about being in that position.

"How do you feel?" Hank questions and she looks in his general direction.

"Your honor, I would like to move that the room stop spinning," she moans and he quickly puts the plates on the coffee table.

"Put your head between your knees until the dizziness passes," he instructs, sitting down next to her and gently pushing her over.

He rubs her back as he waits for her to get her equilibrium back and out of the corner of his eye he can see Stuart starting to get all puffed up with indignation. However, before the man can open his mouth, Cathy grabs him by the back of his collar and drags him out of the room, choking out his protests the entire way. A quick check of the others finds Annie and Mike sitting on the love seat, the twins on the other side of Amanda on the couch and Paul sitting in an overstuffed chair with Amanda's computer on his lap.

"I must say, Paul, I am most curious about your gift," Hank states, turning his attention towards the boy. "What exactly are your abilities?"

Annie makes a funny sound and Hank turns his attention to the very upset woman.

"It's a little late to be pretending that he's perfectly normal, Annie, so give it a rest," Amanda grumbles, though her words are a bit muffled by her position.

Annie shoots her sister a withering glare before slumping her shoulders in defeat and dropping her face into her hands.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any more trouble," Hank says.

"Annie's just afraid you'll steal him away to Xavier's," Amanda tells him, sitting up slightly so she can turn to look at him.

"I can assure you, neither I, nor anyone at Xavier's, would just steal your child away unless he was in danger of being harmed," Hank assures the mother. "It is quite apparent to me that your children are very well cared for and loved. You have nothing to fear about him being taken from your care. However, I would advise you to at least contact Xavier's and talk to Ororo Monroe, the headmistress. They could test him to see the extent of his powers and then help you set up a lesson plan to help him get a handle on his powers. Have the girls shown any signs of being mutants as well?"

"Nothing yet," Mike answers. "Do you think they will be?"

"More often than not, if one child develops mutant abilities, then any siblings have an increased chance of being mutants as well," Hank answers. "In the case of twins, especially identical, if one is a mutant, it's a given that the other will be as well."

"We'll keep an eye on them," Mike assures him and Hank nods his appreciation.

"So, young man, what exactly can you do?" Hank asks, turning towards Paul and never seeing the look exchanged between Annie and Amanda.

"I can send my mind into the computer and do anything I want in there and if it has an Internet connection, then I can go into any computer that's also connected," Paul eagerly answers. "That Friends of Humanity website isn't going to be coming back any time soon."

"Oh?" Hank questions as his eyebrows rise towards his hairline.

"Yeah, I totally destroyed their computer," Paul replies smugly. "Though I think I over did it a little bit."

"You passed out," Annie nearly growls.

"So?" Paul shoots back. "It's not like I was in a coma or anything. I just wore myself out a bit."

"So that's why you weren't feeling well the other day," Hank observes, neatly cutting off another argument. "Are there any limitations to your skills?"

"I have to touch some part of the computer," Paul tells him. "It doesn't matter what part, but I have to be touching it at all times."

"I take it that what we saw earlier is what happens if you lose contact with the computer before returning to yourself," Hank says, idly noting that Amanda is slowly starting to sit up.

"Yeah, someone took me away from the computer before I was done," Paul grumbles, glaring at his mother.

"You were passed out again," Annie says defensively. "How was I supposed to know not to pull you away from the computer?"

"Well, if you'd just let me tell you what I can do, instead of being too busy all of the time, then you'd know," Paul retorts just before he stands up and then shoves the laptop towards his aunt. "Even Aunt Amy knows what I can do better than you. Here, I fixed your computer."

"Thank you, Paul," Amanda replies as she takes the item from him, a bit surprised about how heavy it suddenly seems.

Before anyone can say anything, Paul runs out of the room and Annie starts glaring at Amanda again.

"This is all your fault," Annie snarls and Amanda rolls her eyes.

"This should be good," Amanda snorts. "Please explain how I'm at fault for this when I wasn't even here?"

"You left your computer out where he could find it," Annie retorts.

"And who's job is it to watch _your_ child?" Amanda shoots back. "Last I checked, it wasn't me!"

"Perhaps this isn't the best time to pick a fight with your sister," Mike strongly suggests, taking a firm hold of Annie's arm. "Let's let them eat their lunch in peace, shall we?"

Before she can protest, Mike pulls his wife to her feet and nearly drags her out of the room. Amanda and Hank both sigh with relief as she leans against him. He gently kisses her forehead near her bandage and then hands her one of the plates of food.

"Let me guess, you told Mom I needed to eat something," Amanda says, eying the food heaped upon her plate.

"Well, part of the reason you fainted could be due to the fact that you haven't eaten since breakfast and what you did eat wasn't very much," Hank points out.

"I just wanted to get out of there," she grumbles in response as she tries to pick up her sandwich with one hand and Cathy sticks her head back into the room just at that moment.

"Girls, come help me in the kitchen, please," Cathy requests of the twins who are still huddled down at their end of the couch.

"Yes, Grandma," they respond as they get up and leave the room.

"Where's Dad?" Amanda asks, still trying to get a hold of her sandwich.

"I sent him to the store to get something that I absolutely have to have," Cathy answers.

"What was it?" Amanda questions, trying not to smile.

"I don't remember," Cathy replies with an ill concealed grin. "Eat up. You look like death itself."

With that, the older woman turns and disappears down the hallway, supposedly headed for the kitchen. Hank stares at the empty doorway for several seconds in surprise before turning his attention back to his lady. He finds her still struggling to get a hold of her lunch, the thickness of the sandwich added to the inability to use both hands makes it difficult to get hold of the thing and with an amused smile, he picks it up for her, holding it for her so she can eat it.

"There's no one here but the two of us, so no audience to watch," he assures her when she gives him a scrutinizing look. "I swear, no one will take a picture of you and then post it on the Internet."

"Is it a bad thing that I want to kick Johnny Storm's butt when I get back to New York?" she grumbles just before taking a bite.

"No and I'll even hold your coat for you," he chuckles as he starts alternating between eating his lunch and helping her with hers.

* * *

"Is that everything?" Hank asks as Amanda brings the last bag out of her room.

"Yeah, if I missed anything, I can replace it or get it the next time I come down," she answers while she shuts her bedroom door and then her voice drops down into a low growl. "Of course, it'll be a while before I'm going to come here again."

"Then we should get going," he states and she nods her agreement.

They head downstairs where most of her family is waiting. Cathy, Mike and the kids are all standing near the front door, none of them looking really happy about their departure. Annie's absence doesn't go unnoticed and Amanda gives her mother a cold, hard stare.

"I see Annie couldn't be bothered to come say goodbye," Amanda nearly snarls. "Something you never let me get away with."

"Well, considering Annie's condition...," Cathy starts.

"A condition she brought upon herself," Amanda snaps. "I can't believe you're still coddling her!"

"Amy, try to be understanding," Cathy says, starting to fidget.

"All I understand is that your still babying a woman who may or may not be pregnant with her husband's child," Amanda shoots back. "If the situation was reversed, would you let me skip out on saying goodbye?"

Cathy looks down at the floor, not answering her daughter and Amanda lets out a snort.

"I thought not," Amanda grumbles, shifting the straps of the bags she's carrying.

"Amanda, perhaps this isn't the best time for this," Hank gently interrupts.

Amanda finally looks over at the others and sees the looks on their faces. Mike is barely containing his anger and the kids look hurt and confused.

"Mike, kids, I'm sorry," Amanda moans, feeling lower then a worm's belly at the moment.

"Have a safe trip," Mike replies stiffly and then stalks off.

Before Amanda can say anything, the kids give her brief hugs and then take off for parts unknown. Amanda starts to call after them, but at that precise moment, her father arrives. He sees her bags, mostly carried by Hank and scowls.

"Well, you certainly know how to make the holidays memorable," Cathy states coldly, her arms folded across her chest and a disapproving look on her face.

"Bye," Amanda mumbles as she quickly opens the door and all but runs out it.

She makes a headlong dash down the front steps towards Hank's car and gets about half way down the front walk before slipping on a patch of ice. She starts to scream but a pair of strong arms catches her, stopping her fall. She clings to those arms as her body trembles from the shock of nearly falling again, never even noticing that one of his hands is crushing one of her breasts.

"Are you alright?" he worriedly inquires as he gets her back on her feet and then moves his hands to a more acceptable place.

"No," she whimpers as she buries her face into his chest, leaning heavily on him. "I want to go home. I want to go to the moon. I want to be any place but here."

"Well, I don't think I can manage the moon, but I can definitely take you away from here," he tells her fondly.

"Like Hell you will," Stuart growls just as the sound of a shotgun cocking reaches their ears. "Amy, get inside right now."

They turn and find Stuart standing at the top of the steps with a double barrel shotgun in his hands and he has it trained on Hank.

"Stuart, stop this foolishness right now!" Cathy demands as she tries to pull Stuart's arms down.

"Forget it, Dad," Amanda snarls and then spins around, marching towards the car.

Hank simply ignores the gun and picks up Amanda's dropped luggage before heading towards his vehicle. He can hear Stuart racing down the front steps, but he doesn't stop until he reaches the trunk of the car. He puts the bags down to open the trunk and finds the barrel of Stuarts weapon practically in his face.

"Step away from her bags," Start orders and Hank stands up to his full height and glares back at the other man.

"Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, Dad, give it a rest!" Amanda yells. "I'm leaving! Deal with it!"

"Watch your language, young lady!" Stuart snaps back. "You're not going anywhere! Now get back in the house!"

"And you wonder why I moved to New York!?" Amanda shouts.

"Stuart, enough already, put the gun away!" Cathy adds loudly as she grabs him and tries to drag him back into the house.

While all of this is going on, Hank and Stuart stare at each other, neither one of them moving or even blinking. While Hank remains calm looking on the outside, inside Beast is doing its best to take over and tear the other man limb from limb. Stuart makes the mistake of jabbing the shotgun towards Hank to get him to move back, but instead Hank rips the gun out of the other man's hands in a move that's too fast to be seen. Stuart stares confoundedly at his now empty hands and Hank starts to squeeze the barrel of the weapon in his hand.

"I will thank you to never point another weapon at me _ever_ again," Hank growls as he gives the gun one final squeeze before dropping it on the ground.

Stuart quickly grabs the weapon up and starts to aim it at Hank again but stops when he notices that the end of the barrel is completely crushed.

* * *

**Author's Notes 2:** So a few years ago I met a lady with four kids, a boy, boy and girl twins and another boy. We got to talking about kids and during the course of the conversation I found out that her husband had had a vasectomy after the twins were born. A couple of years later, she got pregnant again because his vasectomy had reversed itself. I have been dying to stick that in one of my stories for the longest time...


	71. Boxing Day pt 4

**Author's Notes: ** I know Stuart seems to have gone off the deep end, but please trust me, I know what I'm doing and all will be explained in this chapter. And before I get blasted by any more gun owners (HAH! I made a punny!), remember what Amanda told Hank ages ago. The shotgun is filled with rock salt which would do damage and hurt like hell, but wouldn't kill Hank and Hank knows this. A big thank you to Coffeelvr72, LifeBringsMeOnlyTears, theNightEnchantress, kudokuchan69, Music is my Muse, Takerslady, Snape's Opera Rose, SparrowsVixon, Descia, Mythigal, Mana-Kipagami and Neotoma.

* * *

Stuart stares at the end of his gun for several seconds, disbelief at the ease at which Hank crushed the metal warring with the reality that his weapons is now useless. In a pique of rage, he drops the gun and launches himself at the large blue man, catching him by surprise. He ignores the voices of his wife and daughter as they yell at him and attempts to beat off this creature who is trying to take away his little girl.

Startled at first, Hank does nothing to stop the attack on his person for a moment, at which point Amanda and her mother start shouting at Stuart. Hank deftly grabs the man's flying fists, pinning them behind his back and then catching him a bear hug as he easily lifts the other man off of the ground. Stuart starts thrashing, kicking with all of his strength in hopes of hitting his target while Beast starts screaming for blood and its almost more than Hank can take.

"ENOUGH!" Hank bellows as he uses his body and considerable strength to throw the other man into a sizable snowdrift.

There's about a second of dead silence before both women start to move again and all Hank can do is stand there as Cathy runs past him towards her husband. He's too busy fighting Beast back from taking over to be worried that he may have hurt the man as Amanda comes up to him and softly calls his name. He's so strung out by this that it's not until Amanda's hand guides his face to look at her and he can see her concern that he starts to calm down.

"Are you alright?" she softly asks, her hand never leaving his face.

"I'm fine now, thank you," he assures her as he relieves her of the bags she's carrying.

"I'm sorry," she says as sadness and exhaustion pull her shoulders down.

"For what?" he inquires as he carefully places the satchels in the trunk.

"For putting you through all of this," she morosely answers. "For making you put up with my family. I warned you that they were crazy."

"You most certainly did warn me, but you didn't put me through this," he replies as he pulls her into an embrace. "I volunteered."

"Which really makes me wonder who's the craziest person here," she teases as she hugs him back as best she can while buries her face in the fur on his neck. "God, when did we walk into a soap opera?"

He chuckles in response as he nuzzles his nose into her hair, not really carrying what her parents might think. Not that they're really paying attention to anything the younger couple is doing since Stuart hasn't crawled out of the snowbank and it doesn't look like he's about to move anytime soon.

"Stuart!" Cathy growls from her spot next to the snowdrift with a Stuart sized hole in it. "Get out of there this instant!"

"No," is Stuart's muffled response and Cathy glares down into the hole.

"You've gone off your medication again, haven't you?" she demands with a snarl several seconds later, her eye's narrowing to mere slits.

"I don't need to take any stupid pills," Stuart grumbles back. "I'm fine without them."

"Because attacking your daughter's boyfriend who happens to also be the US Ambassador to the UN and then lying in the snow are perfectly fine things to do," Cathy snaps back as she reaches into the hole. "Now get out of there, get inside and then we're setting up another appointment with your doctor. And this time you're going!"

"I don't want to see that quack," Stuart nearly whines as Cathy starts to tug on him.

"What's wrong with Dad that he needs medication?" Amanda asks, reluctantly leaving Hank's arms to move towards her parents. "What type of doctor is he seeing?"

"Nothing's wrong with your father," Cathy hastily responds, looking rather nervous. "Just finish packing up the car."

"He threatens Hank with a gun and then attacks him with his bare hands and nothing's wrong!?" Amanda nearly yells. "Sing me another one, Mom, because I'm not believing that bull for a moment."

"From the way Stuart has been acting, I would hazard to guess that the medication is of a psychotropic nature," Hank muses as he watches Cathy continue to try and get her husband out of the snow.

"Psychotropic?" Amanda questions, looking back over her shoulder at him. "Like an antidepressant?"

"Yes, something like that," he replies, still keeping an eye on her parents. "But I have a feeling that your father may be more than just depressed."

Before she can ask for any more information, he moves towards her parents. Cathy is still trying to pull Stuart out of the snow with no luck. Amanda slowly follows behind him, mindful of any rocks that may be hidden under the powdery stuff.

"Would you care for some help?" Hanks asks when he reaches the older woman. "I hope I didn't hurt him."

"No, he's fine," Cathy replies as she gives another tug on her husband. "It's probably best if you two just got going. He'll come out faster if you're not here."

"What's wrong with him, Mom?" Amanda inquires and Hank quickly slips a steadying hand under her elbow when she wobbles a bit. "And don't tell me every thing's fine. Why is he taking medication and why did he go off the deep end when he went off of it?"

With a sigh, Cathy lets go of whatever part of Stuart she has hold of and stares down at him.

"He's manic depressive," Cathy softly answers after several seconds of silence. "He can go into violent fits as well as depressed slumps when he's off of his meds."

"It's called Bipolar Disorder now," Hank gently corrects.

"You can change the name of the problem, but it doesn't change the problem," Cathy nearly snaps and then sighs sadly. "You two should get going. You have a long drive ahead of you."

"We should get him out of the snow," Hank points out.

"I'll have Mike help me," Cathy responds.

"I'm sorry for causing such a disruption in your family and your holidays," Hank says forlornly.

"It's not your fault, Hank," Cathy assures him as she finally turns and faces the large blue mutant. "It's not your fault that the Bronco broke down and caused the train wreck, making you come here. It's not your fault that Annie didn't tell Mike about her condition as soon as she found out and instead let it eat her up inside until it came out at the worst possible moment. It's most certainly not your fault that Stuart's ego got the better of his common sense again and made him go off of his pills. I know you must think of us as a bunch of wackos, but we're not normally this bad. Perhaps it's best that you and Amy head back to New York so everything can start to get back to normal for everyone. If we haven't scared you off, you're more than welcome to come here for Easter."

"We'll be in Dunfee, Illinois for Easter," Amanda states before Hank can open his mouth.

"What's in Dunfee, Illinois?" Cathy asks, a frown creasing her brow.

"Hank's family," Amanda answers as she looks up at him and the joy on his face could quite possibly light up Time's Square. "It's only fair that I go and meet his family after he's met mine."

"Mom will be delighted to know that you're coming," Hank tells her with a big grin. "But I must warn you, my family can be quite the hand full too."

"After these past few days I've just had, I'll gladly take my chances," Amanda replies as they start to head for the car. "Besides, as an added bonus, I'll be able to hear all of the embarrassing things you did when you were growing up."

He groans at the thought and she chuckles at him as they reach his car.

"Have a safe trip home," Cathy says as she starts to head for the front door. "Call me when you get home, Amy, to let me know that you got home safely."

"Ok, Mom," Amanda reluctantly agrees while Hank stows the last of her bags in the trunk.

As soon as that's done, Hank helps her into the car, getting the blanket out of the back seat to tuck it around her legs to help keep her warm. He shuts her door and turns to head towards the driver's side of the car, seeing Mike and Cathy hauling Stuart out of the snow. He briefly wonders if he should go help, but decides that the man probably wouldn't appreciate his presence. Instead, he slides behind the wheel so that he and his lady can start their long journey home.

* * *

She wakes as the sound of the engine lowering in pitch and she can feel the car starting to slow down. She takes a deep breath just before she lets out a yawn and stretches as well as she can in the confined space of the car. She finally sits up with a small, pain filled groan and blearily looks around as he carefully navigates the off ramp from the interstate.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Like I was hit by a truck," she groggily replies. "Where are we?"

"Harrisburg, Pennsylvania," he answers as he slows for a stop sign at the end of the off ramp.

"Why?" she asks, still trying to blink the sleep out of her eyes while he turns right.

"_To sleep, perchance to dream,"_ he quotes and she looks at him funny. "I'm afraid that even I tire and must find a place to rest my weary head."

"How much further until we reach New York?" she questions just before another yawn hits her and he stops for a red light.

"Probably another three hours or so," he replies as the light turns green and he gently steps on the gas.

"Do you want me to drive?" she questions.

"No and with the medication you're taking, it's not advisable either," he tells her as he slows and turns right into a hotel's driveway but he continues on at a very sedate pace. "This is a nice hotel, but I'm afraid that it's not very mutant friendly."

"So why are we here if they don't like mutants?" she asks

"They actually have a room available," he responds. "I spent quite a bit of time trying to find someplace and this is what I could find."

"But what's the point if they won't give you the room because you're a mutant?" she inquires.

"I have ways around that," he answers as he reaches for the watch on his wrist.

With a push of a button, the blue, furry mutant sitting next to her disappears and is replaced by a perfectly ordinary looking man. There's a sharp intake of breath from the woman beside him and he reaches for her. She slightly flinches back as he gently strokes her cheek with the back of his hand so she can feel the fur still there.

"It's alright, my love, it's still me," he assures her. "It's just an illusion."

She doesn't trust her voice so all she does is nod and with great reluctance, he takes his hand away as they pull up in front of the hotel's entrance. A moment later, the valet is helping her out of the car while Hank goes around to the trunk and starts getting their bags out. Not sure which bags she'll need, he simply grabs all of them for expedience and places them on the waiting luggage cart.

Figuring that the bitter cold is what's driven her to go inside before he was done, he swiftly follows her while the bellhop brings up the rear. He gets them checked in as quickly as he can, providing the ID he keeps with his normal looking self in the picture. When he's done, he sees her off to the side looking around and when he comes up to her, she only glances at him.

He places a hand on the small of her back and she flinches slightly again before she allows him to guide her towards the elevators. Figuring that she's simply nervous because of the hotel's less then friendly stance towards mutants, he pays it no more mind. All he can think about right now is a warm, soft bed and sleeping with his lady beside him.

Once they're in their room, he goes to help her get out of her coat, but she's managing fine on her own, so he shrugs his own off. He carefully hangs his coat over the back of a chair as she simply tosses hers onto the foot of the bed. With a patient smile, he picks up the garment and hangs it up while she struggles to get her boots off.

As soon as her coat is hung up, he kneels down in front of her and starts to help her with her footwear. She jerks back and the boot easily slides off of her foot, but she continues to back away until the bed stops her. He looks up at her in confusion and sees that she's clearly upset.

"Amanda?" he softly calls, but she won't look directly at him as she tries to move around the bed.

"Please turn it off," she nearly begs as someone knocks at the door.

"Turn what off?" he asks, perplexed by her behavior and she points to his wrist. "I'll turn off the inducer in just a moment."

He stands and heads for the door, opening it to the bellhop who's delivering their luggage. The bags are quickly unloaded and the man tipped with the 'Do Not Disturb' sign hung on the door handle before the door is closed and locked. He returns to her, finding her sitting on the bed and struggling to get her other boot off. He's rather surprised when she scoots back over the bed when he reaches for her.

"Please turn it off," she pleads.

"I'm sorry," he responds as he quickly turns the inducer off.

"Thank you," she sighs when she sees his familiar face return.

"It's just a hologram, an illusion," he points out as he slowly moves towards her and she scoots back to the edge of the bed.

"I know, but it was just a bit too weird for me to take right now," she tells him as she reaches out and strokes his face while he kneels down before her again. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You've been through a rather traumatic experience that included you getting a rather nasty bump on your head," he reminds her while he slides her boot off. "It shouldn't surprise either of us that little things like my appearance suddenly changing would upset you."

"I guess," she replies as her fingers move onto his mane.

He closes his eyes, thoroughly enjoying her gentle ministrations and he carefully lays his head down on her lap. Her fingers work their way down to his skin, her nails start to gently scratch the skin on his scalp and he hums with pleasure. She bites her lip to keep from laughing at his behavior as she tries to figure out if he's acting more like a giant blue cat or dog.

He sighs happily as he relaxes further, his muscles becoming mush while her nails work their magic on him. He lets out a groan of pleasure when she finds just the right spot just behind his ear and he rubs his cheek against her thighs. He ignores the soft snickering he hears and simply wraps his arms around her to get more comfortable, sleep luring him into its clutches despite the awkward position he's in.

"Hank?" she softly calls as she pulls her fingers out of his soft fur and starts petting his mane.

"Hmmmm?" he hums happily.

"I have to get up now," she tells him and a small frown creases his face as a quiet growl escapes his throat making her smile. "Hank, I really do need to get up."

"Why?" he grumbles, finally cracking open an eye to look up at her.

"For one, my legs are going numb," she answers which makes him move some of his weight off of her. "I also need to use the bathroom."

With a sigh of defeat, he sits back, releasing her from his hold. She slides off of the bed and immediately wobbles a bit unsteadily. He quickly reaches out and gently grabs a hold of her hips to steady her.

"Are you alright?" he asks worriedly.

"Yeah, just being my wobbly self thanks to those stupid drugs," she replies as she brushes some rogue strands of hair out of his face. "I'll be fine in a moment. You can let go now."

"In a moment," he responds as he starts to nuzzle her belly.

"Hank, I really do need to use the bathroom and where you're pushing on isn't helping the problem," she points out, her voice slightly strained.

With a sigh and a slight pout, he lets her go and she chuckles. She kisses the top of his head before walking around him and heading into the restroom.

_Mate?_ Beast questions hopefully.

_Do we have that type of energy?_ Hank counters as he looks over his shoulder at her just as she bends over at the waist to get something out of her bag.

_Yessssss,_ Beast moans.

Hank can feel his blood starting to head south and without much prompting by Beast, he's on his feet. He silently comes up behind her and gently starts to caress her jean covered cheeks, startling her. She lurches forward in surprise, tripping over the bags and starts to lose her balance. His arm quickly snakes out, wrapping around her middle and then he pulls her against him.

"You want something?" she teasingly asks as he starts to nuzzle her ear.

"You," he softly growls just before nipping her neck which causes her to gasp.

"Let me use the bathroom first and then you can have your way with me," she moans as she leans against him, feeling her body heat up in all the right places.

"Don't take too long," he tells her, reluctantly releasing her since he can smell her arousal. "I'm not sure how patient I can be right now."

She gives him a suggestive leer over her shoulder just before she disappears into the bathroom and he groans as more of his blood heads below the belt. He leans against the wall for a moment, waiting for his blood to stop rushing away from his brain. Once he's sure he's not going to fall down, he strips down to his boxers and then retrieves a special brown bag from his luggage.

He quickly heads back towards the bed and gets it ready for some vigorous activities. He happily hums to himself as he stuffs the little bag between the pillows and the headboard again. He turns an ear towards the bathroom to see if she's almost done and he can hear her brushing her teeth. He runs his tongue over his own fangs and decides that they could use a scrubbing as well.

"A little impatient, aren't we?" she teases when she opens the door and finds him standing there.

"My turn," he playfully growls as he holds up his own tooth brush and paste.

"Don't take too long," she tells him as she walks past him, raking her nails gently across his stomach, just above the band of his boxers. "I'm not sure how patient I can be right now."

He groans as he feels his cock jump with her touch and she chuckles as she goes to put her things away. It takes quite a bit of self control to not grab her, throw her onto the bed and make wild love to her and oral hygiene be damned. Instead, with great deliberate care, he goes into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him

By the time he emerges, Beast is almost in a frenzy over the delay and he has to keep fighting it back in order not to jump her without the benefit of foreplay. He returns his items to their rightful place in his luggage, barely noticing that most of the lights are off and turns to find her sitting in bed drawing. He remembers Doug's words about her tuning everything out as he quietly stalks towards her.

He slips into bed next to her and she doesn't even glance over at him. He sidles up to her and slips his arms around her, effectively stopping her in her creative tracks. She looks over at him and is met by his intense gaze that immediately shoots a bolt of electricity between her legs.

He gathers her pencil and paper into his large hand before tossing them to the side. She opens her mouth to protest but the only sound to come out is a whimper as his lips find her ear and start to nibble on the delicate flesh. She moans as he pulls her into his lap and her arms snake their way around his neck, holding him close as his mouth slowly torments her.

He slides a hand up her top, caressing the soft skin and losing all rational thought from just the feeling of it. His lips find hers just as his hand locates her breast and she moans into his mouth while she pushes her chest into his hand. The kiss deepens as his other hand roughly grabs her hip and she lets out a startled cry of pain.

* * *

"_To sleep, perchance to dream" - _Hamlet


	72. Not Tonight, Dear

**Author's notes:** Real life can really, really suck. Sorry this is so long in coming, but life's been a bit stressful lately and my muse was being stubborn. A big thank you to all of my reviewers: LifeBringsMeOnlyTears, Kudokuchan69, Jinx of the 2nd Law, Coffeelvr72, Takerslady, Lady Vengence, theNightEnchantress, Kim, Lollipopstrings, dog youkai jane, Mythigal, GabrielsDoubt, Book Readin' Vixen and Lost Blond.

* * *

"Oh my goodness, Amanda, where did I hurt you?" he asks, his voice full of worry and self recrimination.

"It's ok," she tries to assure him, but the pain that tinges her voice belies her words. "I'm all right."

"It is not all right and neither are you," he insists as he gently pushes her off of his lap. "I've hurt you and that should never be ok."

"You just grabbed one of my bruises," she tells him, the pain in her voice now gone while she tries to reach for him, almost desperately needing his touch. "You didn't do it on purpose and need I remind you about some suspicious teeth marks on my shoulder. I can't even begin to tell you how much fun it was to explain _that_ to the doctor this morning."

"After your fall yesterday, I imagine that you are covered in bruises," he points out miserably as he continues to pull away, capturing her questing hands to keep them at bay. "I feel bad enough about your shoulder, but your fall has compounded the problem. We should wait until you're feeling better."

"That'll take, what, one...two weeks?" she asks a bit heatedly while she slides off the bed in search of her pad and pencil that he had tossed away. "You'll probably be in Australia by then."

"You could always come with me to Australia," he suggests hopefully.

"I can't," she replies as she picks up her things. "I don't have any more vacation time accrued, though I think I can take a sick day if I was deathly ill. That's of course if I provide a doctor's note that says I was on my death bed. The only way I'm going to Australia is if I quit my job and that's not going to happen. Having a place to sleep and food on the table doesn't come cheap in New York."

Wisely, he decides that pointing out that she could quit her job and he could take care of her might not be the best way to continue on good terms with his lady.

"Perhaps we should just go to bed and get some sleep," he suggests, patting the spot next to him on the mattress.

"I'm not sleepy," she snaps as she heads for the bathroom.

"Amanda," he worriedly calls while he hastily heads for her, just managing to keep the door from being slammed in his face. "Please don't be upset."

"Why shouldn't I be?" she demands and he can see her trembling as she breathes heavily, almost as if she has been running. "In the past twenty-four hours, I've been attacked by my own sister, end up breaking my arm and had to spend the night with a God damn needle stuck in me that _you _helped put there. Let's top that off with finding out that my darling sister may have been screwing around with God only knows who, my parents still treat her like a blasted princess. My brother-in-law, nieces and nephew, who are quite possibly the last people I want to hurt in the world, are more than likely never going to speak to me again. Then I find out my dad is a manic depressive and has been on medication for God knows how long. The absolute best part to this entire mess is now my own boyfriend doesn't want to touch me! So please explain to me, Hank, why the Hell shouldn't I be upset!?"

Her monologue gets progressively louder and louder and by the end there are tears streaming down her face and she's gasping for air. Without a word spoken, he gently and carefully pulls her trembling form into his arms and he sighs with relief when her arms wrap around his waist. He buries his nose into her hair as he starts to rub a hand up and down her back and she drops her pad and paper off to the side as she sobs into his side of his neck.

"My love, I want to touch you so badly my entire being aches for it," he whispers near her ear as soon as she's calmed down a bit. "But if I was to hurt you any further, I'm not sure I could forgive myself for causing you more pain."

"There's more than just physical pain," she points out with a sniff.

"I know, my love, but I can't imagine me hurting you would be good for either of us, physically, mentally or emotionally," he replies. "I just can't, in good conscious, take the chance. Can you understand my point of view?"

"I guess," she answers while she rests her head against his shoulder. "But please don't push me away like that again. I just need to know that there's someone in this world who doesn't hate me right now."

"Have you taken your anti-depressants lately?" he asks out of the blue and he can feel her tense up in his arms.

"How did you know about those?" she demands as he nuzzles her hair in a vain attempt to get her to relax.

"Mike showed me the bottle," he replies. "He said the girls found them in your closet in a new hiding spot."

"Damn," she mutters before she presses her face further into his fur.

"Amanda?" he queries after several moments of silence.

"I hate taking those damn things," she quietly admits several seconds later. "They make me feel weak. I'm supposed to be the strong one."

"Why are you supposed to be the strong one?" he asks, remembering her words from when she woke from her faint.

"When I was growing up I was always told I had to be," she softly tells him and he can feel and hear her draw a ragged breath. "I was always told that I had to be strong for Annie, protect Annie, defend Annie."

The bitterness in her voice makes him want to hold her tighter, but he doesn't dare.

"Annie can fight her own battles now," he says into her hair. "All I care about is making sure that you are well in every way."

"I still feel weak," she grumbles.

"You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for," he replies as he carefully steps away. "Where are the pills?"

"In one of my bags," she mutters unhappily.

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that," he responds as he gazes over at the rather sizable mound of luggage. "Most of that is yours."

"It's the black one," she retorts and he casts her a sardonic look.

"They're all black," he growls playfully, but quickly sobers when he sees that she's still upset. "Amanda..."

"I hate taking them," she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut as more tears try to escape.

"I know, my love," he murmurs near her ear as he gently holds her close. "But they'll make you feel better."

"I know something else that makes me feel better," she says suggestively while her left hand slides down to grab hold of one of his butt cheeks.

"As much as we both may want to, my love," he chuckles as he gently but firmly peels her hand off of his backside, "it is only a temporary fix and I still refuse to take the chance of causing you harm. The pills will help you stay balanced for the times I'm not there. Please, Amanda, for me..."

With a sigh of defeat, she steps out of his embrace and goes over to her bags. She picks up the first bag in her pile and tries to give it a good shake.

"What are you doing?" he asks, head tilted to the side in curiosity.

"I'm not sure which bag I put it in, so instead of searching through all of them, I'm shaking them," she answers as she puts the bag she's holding down and reaches for the next one.

"Allow me," he offers.

He takes the piece of luggage from her and gives it a good shake. When there's no tattle tell rattle, he reaches for the last one. That one also is vigorously shaken and it also is as silent as the first two.

"Did you pack it?" he inquires worriedly.

"I thought I had," she replies while she frowns at the bags. "I was in such a rush to get out of there, I don't remember."

"Go check your computer and art bags and I'll double check these," he instructs as he gives the bag he's holding another good shake next to his ear.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't stick them in my computer or art bags," she tells him as she carefully starts to go through them. "I don't normally pack anything else in them."

"Do you remember packing them?" he asks while he picks up the next bag for a good shaking.

"I think so, but like I said, I was in a hurry to get out of there, so I might have missed them," she answers, upending her art supply bag onto the floor. "That's odd, I thought I took this out."

"What is it?" he questions while picking up the last bag.

"One of my books of drawings," she replies as she picks up said item. "It's full, so I thought I had stored it with the others."

"The others?" he queries, giving the bag in his hand a good, hard shaking. "I believe I've found your pills."

"The other drawing pads," she responds as she puts the pad down and then heads over to him. "I've got a hope chest that I keep them in."

"I was under the impression that one kept linen and bedding in a hope chest," he muses while he opens the bag and the contents nearly burst out causing him to blink repeatedly in surprise. "Oh...my..."

"I was going for speed, not neatness," she grumbles as she takes the bag from him, upending it and spilling the contents onto the floor.

"Like now," he softly mutters and she glares at him, indicating she heard him quite clearly.

"I broke my arm, Hank, not my hearing," she growls as she starts to dig through the pile of clothes at her feet.

"My apologies," he hurriedly states while she pulls out the white bottle. "It's just that normally you're so neat and organized that I'm finding it a bit disconcerting to see your clothes in such disarray."

"Normally my emotions aren't all out there for the world to see either," she mumbles as she starts to try and open the bottle, not an easy task when one can use only one thumb. "But right now, I feel like I'm going to fall apart if someone so much as looks at me funny."

He reaches out, gently taking the bottle from her trembling fingers and then carefully pulls her into his arms again. She immediately buries her face into the fur on his neck and he starts rubbing her back with his free hand while his nose gets lost in her tresses. Even when the shaking subsides, he continues to hold her until she pulls away slightly and then he only loosens his grip on her.

They stand there unmoving for several seconds and he can hear her heart starting to beat faster and faster. Before he can voice his concern over this, she leans into him again and starts to nibble on his ear. For a brief moment he envisions taking her back to bed with him and making slow, sweet love to her. But the feeling of her cast against his side as she tries to pull him closer breaks through to his logical brain and with great reluctance, he pushes her back a couple steps.

"Amanda, please don't," he quietly requests. "I don't want to risk hurting you again."

"What does Beast have to say about you not wanting me?" she asks, a slightly defiant tone in her voice.

_No hurt mate, _Beast whimpers from dark corner of his mind and Hank is a bit surprised that Beast has willingly pulled back so far.

"It doesn't want to hurt you either," he tells her, putting a finger under her chin to make her look up at him. "As I stated before, I do want you, but I just couldn't live with myself if I caused you any more pain. Please, let us go to bed and get some sleep. I am quite tuckered out."

"This from the man who managed to go for nearly twenty-four hours without sleep," she states bitterly while she turns her back on him and tries to fold her arms across her front.

"I'm paying for that now," he tells her as he goes into the bathroom to get her a glass of water. "What little sleep I got Christmas morning has had to sustain me until now."

"What about last night?" she questions snappishly while she reluctantly takes the glass from him. "I know you rented a hotel room, so it's not like my family was there to give you any grief."

"You are correct that I didn't go home with your family," he replies as he easily opens the bottle of pills. "However, I imagine I was the one giving grief to the people in the room beneath mine since I spent the night pacing."

"Why were you pacing?" she inquires, confusion evident on her face while she takes the pill he shakes out into her hand.

"Because every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was you lying at the bottom of that ravine and not moving, your blood staining the snow beneath your head," he answers as he replaces the lid and then carefully sets the bottle down on the nearby desk, the fear evident in his voice. "It's an image I will never forget for as long as I live. I thought I had lost you."

When he turns to look at her again, she stands there listlessly, her head down and her shoulders slumped like a marionette with it's strings cut. He quickly steps up to her and pulls the glass out of her hand since it's on the verge of slipping out of her fingers. He notices that the pill remains in the loosely curled fingers of her right hand and he holds the glass up to her lips.

"Take your medication, please," he pleads, silently begging her to take the pill without a fight.

She pulls away from him and he worries for a moment that she's going to start arguing with him. Before he can voice his concerns, she takes the drink away from him and quickly takes her medicine. She hands the glass back and then turns to the clothing dumped on the floor. He makes a quick trip to the bathroom to return the glass from whence it came and comes out to find her messily stuffing her clothes back into her bag.

"That can wait until morning," he states softly as he reaches out and stills her hands. "Please, come to bed with me."

"Why?" she questions listlessly. "I might try seducing you again and then you'll just have to push me away. Again."

"Because I will sleep much better knowing that you are safely tucked beside me and not strapped down in a hospital bed," he sadly tells her, leaning in close to her, but not touching more than her hands. "I blame myself for not going after you right away and while I won't blame you for not wanting to, I am begging you, please sleep beside me tonight, so that I know that you are safe. I'm not sure I can sleep without you near me."

"I'm sorry, Hank," she whispers and his heart nearly stops in his chest until she leans her head against his. "I've been so engrossed with my own problems, I never stopped to think what you must be going through. I'm so sorry."

"It is alright," he softly assures her as he gently nuzzles her hair. "Bed?"

"Yeah, alright," she sighs and he helps her to stand up. "Let me put my pad and pencil away so we don't step on them in the middle of the night on the way to the bathroom."

He patiently waits as she puts her art supplies back in their satchel, only getting a passing glance of what she had been working on. It's nothing more than a faint outline, but it looks like a man standing at a chest high counter or table. Once everything is put away to her satisfaction, he leads her over to the bed. He climbs in first, taking up the middle of the bed and she raises an eyebrow at him.

"Pick a side that you want to cuddle up to and I'll move over to make room for you on that side," he instructs as he spreads his arms wide.

"Scoot that way," she instructs as she moves around to his right side.

He immediately obliges and she climbs in beside him, carefully cuddling up next to him as soon as she's able. He gently wraps his right arm around her as she lays her head down on his shoulder and rests her broken arm across his chest. He reaches over to turn off the light as her fingers start to try and burrow down into his soft fur and his left hand quickly stills them.

"Sleep now, my love," he whispers just before softly kissing her forehead.

She doesn't argue with him, so he closes his eyes and starts to relax. A moment later she starts squirming around, rubbing herself against him and her right leg slides over his. His eyes pop open in surprise at first, but then his right arm tightens slightly, partially immobilizing her.

"Sleep, you," he quietly growls.

"Just getting comfortable," she tells him, but he can hear the teasing in her voice.

"Minx," he mutters as he starts to relax again.

"At least I'm your minx," she softly replies a bit wistfully.

"Yes," he sighs as sleep starts to claim him. "Mine."

It takes only a couple of minutes of laying there before his soft snores start to fill the room and she lies there beside him with her eyes wide open, unable to sleep. When he wakes a few hours later, the first thing he notices is that he's alone in the bed.


	73. Drawing the Truth Out

**Author's Notes: **So I was on vacation last week and guess what happens. The kids and I catch a cold right in the middle of the trip. Hubby of course is fine and the kids have gotten over it, but I'm still suffering from the lovely effects of this stupid bug. That being said, I have proof read this chapter, but if you see some big glaring mistakes, blame the cold and then PM me about them. At any rate, a big thank you to my reviewers: LilyHellsing, kudokuchan69, GabrielsDoubt, theNightEnchantress, Takerslady, Jinx of the 2nd Law, dog youkai jane, Descia, Maraena, Neotoma and dandysgirl103.

* * *

"Amanda?" he calls into the darkness after making sure she's not on the very far side of the bed.

There's no response and he can feel his heart starting to race. With a trembling hand, he turns on the light while Beast starts whimpering in the back of his mind. After his eyes adjust to the sudden illumination, he looks around the room and ascertains that she's not there.

_Where mate?_ Beast demands and Hank can sense it beginning to get restless.

"I don't know," Hank grumbles as he climbs out of bed and heads for the bathroom. "But I intend to find out."

He checks, but the restroom is empty and he notices her pajamas are neatly folded on the counter next to the sink. He takes a deep breath and notes that her scent is a couple of hours old making him worry even more. Keeping his panic at bay and ignoring an impatient Beast, he quickly pulls his pants and shirt back on. A brief check of her luggage and he can see that her purse and the satchel with her art supplies are missing.

Making sure he has his room key, he quickly heads for the door, but as he reaches for the door he stops. He stares at his hand covered in blue fur and then goes in search of his watch. He finds it on the nightstand and straps it on as fast as he can. Once he's sure the image inducer is working properly, he steps out into the hallway and takes another deep breath.

Again the scent is faded with time, but it tells him which way she went and he swiftly sets his feet in motion. He soon finds himself waiting for the elevator, bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently. After what seems to be an eternity later, the elevator doors slide open with a 'ding'.

He steps inside, but there's no trace of her scent and he huffs in frustration. He takes the most logical action and presses the button for the lobby, praying that she hasn't done something rash. A few moments later he arrives at the lobby level and he again inhales deeply.

It's faint, but it is there and he quickly steps out of the compartment before the doors can close on him. Unfortunately, there are dozens of other scents mingled in with hers which makes it hard to tell which way to go. He steps away from the bank of elevators and closes his eyes to try and discern where she might have gone.

With a frown on his face, he opens his eyes and heads towards the main desk, but he completely looses the scent shortly after starting. He turns around and heads back the other way, intent on finding her. He worries that since she didn't leave a note and the two things that would be hardest replace are missing. It doesn't help knowing that she's probably still upset since he kept turning down her advances earlier.

_Find mate!_ Beast demands.

"I'm working on it," Hank growls back, eternally grateful that at this time of night there aren't that many people around to hear him talking to himself.

He soon gets to a spot where he can go right or left and it doesn't help that her scent seems to go in both directions. He decides to go with the right hand rule and turns that way in hopes of finding his lady soon. Instead he comes upon the lady's restroom and he quickly turns around to go the other way.

He finds himself standing outside the hotel's cafe with very few customers in it so it's very easy to spot a lone, dark haired woman sitting by herself on the other side of the restaurant. With a sigh of relief, he swiftly walks past the hostess's station and heads for his lady, paying little heed to anything else.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you can't come in here," a woman's voice says, bringing him up short.

He turns and looks at the lady wearing a server's uniform, blinking a couple of times in surprise. He brings up his hand to brush back his unruly hair and making sure the image inducer is still working at the same time.

"Why not?" he asks.

"You're not wearing any shoes," she points out.

He looks down and sure enough, his feet are quite bare.

"I'm sorry, but I won't be staying long," he explains as he nervously glances over at Amanda and sees that she seems to be staring intently at something on the table in front of her, completely oblivious to anything else. "I just want to..."

"I'm sorry, sir, but it's against the health code to let you in without shoes on," she tells him.

"Yes, of course," he mumbles as he quickly turns and heads back out.

Once he's past the hostess's station, he glances back at Amanda and sees she hasn't moved. Silently wishing he had Nightcrawler's ability to teleport himself, he heads back up to the room while hoping that she'll still be there when he gets back. He rushes down the corridors to the elevators and silently thanks his lucky starts that there's an open one already waiting there.

In a very short amount of time, he's back in their room and hurriedly putting his shoes on, not even bothering with socks. In his haste, he's not as careful as he normally is and ends up breaking a shoe lace. With a growl of frustration, he throws the broken piece away and heads back downstairs.

He returns to the cafe and starts to head inside only to be stopped once again by the same woman.

"I'm sorry, sir, you can't come in here," she tells him.

"Why not?" he questions a bit heatedly and points to his feet. "I'm wearing shoes."

"That's nice, sir, but we're closed now," she replies pointing to the hours listed on the hostess's station and with a great deal of effort, he manages not to bang his head against the thing in aggravation.

"Did you perchance see which way the dark haired woman that was sitting in that booth went?" he inquires, trying not to sound desperate as he points across the darkened dinning room.

"No, sir, I didn't," she answers.

"Thank you," he says with a false calm and turns to go.

He inhales deeply and then follows his nose back to the elevator bank. His stomach twists around as he pushes the up button, hoping that she's gone back up to the room, but not entirely sure. As soon as he steps out of the elevator, he fills his lungs again and lets it out in a loud side of relief.

He quickly heads for their room, the muscles in his neck and shoulders starting to relax as he pulls the room key out of his pocket. In very short order he's back in the room and he can see the bathroom light is on, but the door has been left ajar.

"Amanda?" he calls as he taps on the door with his nail.

"Yeah," she replies in a rather lifeless tone of voice.

"Is everything all right?" he questions worriedly.

She doesn't answer him, but comes out of the bathroom still pulling her pajamas on and he gets a glimpse of the bruises on her back. He takes in a sharp breath as he starts to reach for her, but she sidesteps his hand. He stands there with his arm still out, perplexed by her action as she picks up her satchel and opens it.

"Amanda?" he queries, confused by her behavior as he lets his arm finally drop. "What's wrong? Have I done something wrong?"

"It depends," she responds, sounding less than pleased at the moment while she pulls out her two drawing pads, opens them and then hands them to him. "Are the two men in these drawings men in these pictures the same one as the one standing in front of me?"

He looks down at the pads of paper in his hands and he can feel his stomach drop. The newer drawing is one of him with the image inducer on as he was checking them into the hotel earlier this evening, but it's the second one that's got his stomach twisting itself into knots. It's the drawing she unknowingly drew of him the night after the masquerade when she had dinner with Doug and he was privy to their private conversation.

"Oh dear," he mumbles sadly.

"Oh dear?" she snaps. "I find out that this whole relationship may be a lie and all you can say is 'oh dear'!?"

"A lie!?" he shoots back in surprise, looking up at her with shock written all over his face. "What makes you think that my feelings for you are untrue?"

"You didn't ask me out until after you overheard me tell Doug that I would go out with you if you asked," she points out heatedly, her arms wrapped around her middle like she's trying to hold herself together. "Though it does explain how you knew about me cleaning when I think and the knight in shining blue fur thing."

"I was planning on asking you out well before that dinner," he tells her a bit forcefully, tossing the pads onto the bed and taking a step towards her only to have her take a step back. "You can ask Ororo if you don't believe me. Unlike some of the men in your past, I do not make it a habit to play with another's emotions, especially a woman's."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks, the hurt evident in her voice. "I feel like the only reason you asked me out was because you heard me say that I would go out with you. Like I'm just a charity case because I can't seem to keep a guy interested in me."

He takes a deep breath and forces himself to calm down. The recent worry and frustration of trying to find her combined with the lack of sleep has left him on edge. Not wanting to frighten or anger her, he takes another moment to let the tension go.

"If anyone's a charity case, my dear, it's me," he tells her in a soothing voice as he turns the image inducer off. "Look at me."

She stubbornly continues to stare off to the side and he reaches out to her. He's thankful when she doesn't shy away from his touch as his fingers gently cup her chin. He softly guides her face in the correct direction and while at first she does resist him, her gaze finally does turn on him. He can see her eyes are bright with unshed tears and his heart feels like it's being torn from his chest.

"Women aren't exactly pounding down my door, you know," he points out as his free hand carefully brushes some stray strands of hair from her face. "You have no idea how much I value the time we spend together, if for no other reason than you treat me like a man and not the beast everyone else sees."

"Why didn't you tell me that it was you?" she quietly asks with a small sniff.

"I don't know," he sadly answers. "I wanted to tell you, but a part of me was afraid that you'd never speak to me again if you found out. All I can say at this point is that I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

"I don't know, Hank," she softly responds as she pulls her face out of his hand and looks away again. "I feel used, that your feelings for me aren't real."

Before she can even blink, he drops down to his knees and takes her hands in his, mindful of her broken wrist. She can feel her heart starting to pound in her chest and she tries to take a step back, afraid that he's going to break his word to her. However, he's not letting go, not that it really matters since she'd have to climb over the bed to get away from him.

"My feelings for you are quite real," he states firmly as he looks up at her with pleading eyes. "Someday, I don't know when, I am going to ask you to let me be your husband because I cannot imagine my life without you in it. Please believe me and please forgive me. Please."

She finally looks down into those blue eyes, begging for forgiveness and no matter how much some small part of her wants to stay mad at him, her heart can't. She slowly and carefully gets down on her knees too and then lays her head on his shoulder. He carefully takes her trembling body into his arms and lets out a sigh of relief.

"I take it I'm forgiven?" he questions after several silent moments and she nods as she takes in a ragged breath.

He gently rubs her back while her body shudders as it releases the pent up emotions. When she starts to try to get back up onto her feet, he gracefully stands and helps her the rest of the way up. He softly kisses her before she can point out what a klutz she is and she gladly leans into him, almost too tired to hold her own weight up.

"Want to hear something funny?" he whispers in her ear shortly after the buss ends.

"What?" she questions, nearly asleep on her feet.

"When I saw you and Doug together that night, at first I thought he was your boyfriend," he tells her and see pulls back enough to stare at him with a disbelieving look on her face.

"You thought that Mr. Doug 'Somebody-Hose-Me-Down-Because-I'm-a-Flaming-Queer' Jacobson was my boyfriend?" she asks, trying hard not to laugh right in his face.

"That's not very nice thing to say about your best friend," he responds, trying to contain his own chuckles.

"His words, not mine," she tells him and then lets out a huge yawn.

"Perhaps it would be best if we retired for the evening," he suggests and she simply nods her agreement.

In short order, the bed is cleared, he's stripped down to his boxers, the lights are turned off and they're cuddling under the covers. He lets out a sigh and starts to relax with her warmth pressed against his side. Just as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, she squirms around next to him and he can't help but open his eyes.

"Are you all right?" he asks as she roles away from him.

"I'm fine, just go back to sleep," she replies, but he can hear that there's something wrong by the tone of her voice.

"Amanda, please, tell me what's wrong," he begs as he also turns onto his side so that he's spooning her.

"Just go to sleep," she grumbles as she tries to squirm away only to be stopped by an arm around her middle.

"Amanda, please," he pleads as he buries his nose into her hair and she lets out a strangled whimper. "Amanda?"

"Let me go, please," she nearly cries while she tries to push his arm away.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," he replies, his breath brushing past her ear and he can feel her body shudder.

She struggles for a bit longer, but when she fails to get away, she makes another one of those strange noises.

"Amanda," he whispers, his voice full of worry and the pain that she's not telling him what's wrong.

"I'm horny," she snaps and he's so stunned that she's able to squirm out of his arms.

"I don't understand," he states in confusion, letting her wiggle away to the edge of the bed before stopping her. "What did I do to get you aroused?"

"You didn't have to do anything," she answers miserably as she sits on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on her thigh. "Just being in your arms gets me going. Ever since we first kissed, I've wanted you to touch me in ways that leave me blushing and horny at the same time."

They sit in silence for a while, he's stunned by the revelation and she's just miserable. Her body aches and throbs from her fall, but at the same time it's screaming to be touched and there's nothing she can do about it. When the hand on her thigh slides up over her belly and brushes the side of her breast, she nearly jumps out of her skin.

"Hank?" she calls softly, her voice quavering with pent up emotions.

"There's more than one way to satisfy my lady fair," he tells her in that sexy rumbling voice of his as he gently pulls her back into his arms.

Before she can so much as squeak, his hands are roaming over her body and all she can do is arch into those talented hands. He caresses her breasts through the material of her top and she whimpers as he teases the nipples into hard little peaks. She needs to touch him and her left hand wildly searches for some part of him to hold onto while she keeps her right hand away from moving body parts.

Her hand lands on his thigh and he can feel a great deal of blood headed for his groin, but he tries to ignore it. When she starts moaning his name he has to sternly remind himself and Beast that this is for her and not for their own gratification. With a great force of will, he turns his attention towards her and gets her even more worked up despite that miscreant hand that's now groping and caressing much too close to his growing member.

His lips and teeth start nibbling on her neck and ear and she compulsively grabs his thigh tighter. He pulls her closer, unconsciously grinding his growing need into her hip. Instinctively, she pushes back and he can't stop himself from holding her firmly against him.

"Oh God, Hank, please," she begs with a moan as her left leg wraps itself around his, naturally pulling her legs apart.

The smell of her arousal takes his breath away and it takes every last shred of willpower on his part not to strip her naked and mate with her like a wild animal. He latches onto her neck while one hand continues to fondle her breasts and the other slides between her legs. She has to clamp her jaws shut to keep from crying out from the pleasure he's giving her and her hand slides up his leg until it has a firm hold of his backside.

Even though there's her pajama bottoms and panties to contend with, he still finds that sweet bundle of nerves between her legs. Her whimpered moans hit a fevered pitch as she bucks into his hand and her motions are making his own problems even harder. It only takes him a few seconds to make her body go stiff as she goes flying over the edge and she barely manages not to scream it to the world.

Several seconds later, she collapses into a boneless lump next to him and he carefully shifts her so that his erection is no longer poking her. He then gently moves her left hand away from himself and hopes that she hasn't notice his own problem. As she lets out a contented sigh, he silently hopes that she'll fall asleep quickly so that he can go and take care of his own problem.

_Mate?_ Beast queries, sounding completely confused and Hank knows it's because he's not seeking his own pleasure with her.

_No, mate is hurt,_ Hank silently tells it, turning his attention inward. _We don't want to hurt mate more_.

Beast whines as it tries to understand and Hank reminds it of her broken arm and the bruises they saw earlier. He finally gets his primal self to calm down and he hopes that with it now getting settled, so will a rather determined part of his body that doesn't seem to want to get the message. Before he can start running images of Logan in a skort doing back flips through his mind, she does something that nearly makes him jump right out of his fur.

"GAH!" he cries as fingers of her left hand take a hold of his silk covered turgid length.

"Seems to me that I'm not the only one who needs a little relief," she purrs, amusement coloring her words.

"Amanda, you don't need to ohmystarsandgarters," he gasps as she starts to move her hand up and down.

"Yes, I do," she replies softly.

She manages to roll over just before she crawls onto his body all while keeping her hand in motion. She straddles his thighs as she speeds up her ministrations and he couldn't stop the groan escaping his throat even if he wanted to. He can feel his eyes roll up into his head while his hips start to push himself into that wonderful hand.

His hands grab hold of the bedding for fear that if he touches her, she'll be naked and under him in a mater of seconds. His grunts bounce off of the walls as he loses himself to the feeling of her jerking him off. Just as he feels himself getting close, her hand starts to loosen and without thinking, he covers her hand with his.

His movements become frantic as he seeks his release and it's all she can do not to get bucked off of his legs. A short time later he barely bites back a roar as his body starts to convulse and she can feel herself toppling off of him. She tries to right herself, but he still has hold of her hand and she doesn't think as she reaches out with her right hand to catch herself.

Her fingers barely touch the sheets when she realizes what a mistake she's made. Before she can pull her hand back, his other arm comes up and nearly crushes her to his body. She lets out a gasp, part in surprise, part in pain and then buries her face in his fur.

"Are you alright?" he asks as he quickly loosens his grip on her, worried that he may have hurt her.

"I'm fine," she assures him while she slips her hand out from under his. "I'm definitely ready to sleep now."

"That makes one of us," he grumbles as he gently releases her and then slides out of bed. "It seems I am in need of some clean shorts."

"Serves you right," she snickers as she gets comfortable. "Payback for those panties you ruined."

He chuckles as he heads towards the bathroom to get cleaned up. A while later he slips back into bed and he nearly purrs with happiness when she cuddles up to him. With a sigh of contentment, he starts to drift off to sleep when a sudden thought strikes him.

"Amanda?" he softly calls, not wanting to wake her if she's already asleep.

"Mmm?" she hums sleepily.

"Instead of returning to New York tomorrow, would you please come with me to Vermont?" he requests and he can feel her lift her head to try and look at him. "The cabin is already paid for, so it might as well get some use. It's very lovely out there and it would just be the two of us."

He waits breathlessly for her answer and after a moment, her head returns to its resting spot on his shoulder.

"Sounds nice," she murmurs into his fur. "I've never been to Vermont before."

A short time later he feels her drift off to sleep and with a smile on his lips, he joins her.


	74. Tell the Truth

**Author's Notes I:** On the plus side of going on vacation, I took along my note book and I hand wrote the next couple of chapters, you lucky people you. A big thank you to LilyHellsing, kudokuchan69, Neotoma, theNightEnchantress, Jinx of the 2nd Law and GabrielsDoubt for your reviews.

* * *

"That is the most...interesting...news, 'Ro," he states, glancing down at the sleeping beauty beside him, the early afternoon sun highlighting the bruise on her forehead.

"There's more," she tells him.

"Oh?"

"Yes, it seems that Amanda is-"

**BEEP!**

"Hello?" he calls. "'Ro?"

After a couple seconds of silence, he looks down at his cell phone and sees that the blasted little thing has shut itself off. He remembers seeing that the battery was low earlier and he huffs in frustration. He plugs the phone into the charger and the takes the ear piece off, tossing it into the glove box.

He looks down at the woman beside him again and wonders what other secrets she's hiding from him.

* * *

"Hank?" she calls out. "Hello, Hank? Can you hear me?"

When she doesn't get a response, she hangs up and calls him again. It goes straight to voice mail and with a sigh of frustration, she leaves a message, hoping that he'll get it soon. After hanging up, she stares at the computer monitor for a little while more before turning it off and leaving her office.

"Guter Tag, Ororo," Kurt greets as she walks down the hallway. "Iz everyting all right?"

"I'm not sure," she replies as he falls into step beside her. "I found out something about Amanda Simon and her sister that I thought Hank should know, but we were cut off before I could tell him everything. I'm just worried that he'll assume the wrong thing and it will cause problems between them. I wonder if I've done the right thing."

"If it iz meant to be, den all vill be vell," he assures her. "One must trust de good Lord to help dem to vork out any problems dat may develop."

"I hope you're right, Kurt," she sighs just as a band of giggling girls go charging down the hall.

"I vonder vhat dat vas all about," he muses as the gaggle disappears around the corner.

"I'm not-," she starts only to be interrupted by the bellow of an angry Wolverine and she sighs. "Here we go again."

"Zo it vould zeem," he chuckles as a half dressed Logan comes barreling around the corner with his bright purple hair even wilder than normal.

"I don't even want to know how they managed that one," she states as they angry mutant goes careening past them and makes the same turn as the girls did.

"Should ve save dem from demselves?" he asks as they hear shrieks coming down the corridor.

"I guess we better," she answers as Logan starts yelling.

With a sigh, she turns around and follows the others, not sure if she should punish the culprits or compliment them for being able to pull one over on the Wolverine.

* * *

She watches the snow covered landscape go by through her window, admiring the unspoiled beauty of it all. He hasn't spoken much since she woke up a while ago, but since he's having to navigate winding mountain roads, she doesn't really blame him. Heaven knows she'd have a death grip on the steering wheel and would only communicate in grunts if she was driving.

When they finally reach their destination, the sun is starting to set and her stomach is beginning to grumble. Fortunately, the driveway and the path to the front door have already been cleared of snow so they don't have to contend with that. They quickly start unloading the car and all but run inside only to find that it's as cold inside as it is outside. He goes to the fireplace to start a fire while she goes in search of a bathroom. When she comes back out, there's a roaring fire going and he's bringing in the last of the luggage. She goes to help him, but he brushes past her and then disappears through a door that leads to the bedroom.

"Do you need help with anything?" she asks.

"No, thank you," he answers from the other room. "Go ahead and get comfortable by the fire. I have everything under control. I'll get dinner started in a bit."

"Are you sure?" she questions as she moves closer to the fire.

"Quite sure," he assures her.

"Umm...we didn't stop at a grocery store," she hesitantly points out while she sits down near the delightful warmth.

"I sent the owner a list several weeks ago and paid him quite handsomely to have the place stocked before hand," he tells her and she can hear him moving around in the next room. "There should be enough food to last one person a full week or two people half a week."

"You think of everything, don't you?" she chuckles while she looks around.

"I do try," he responds as he emerges and then crosses over to the kitchen area.

"How did you know that the owner wouldn't just rent the cabin out again since you weren't here when you said you'd be?" she queries.

"The owner is a friend of mine and he doesn't normally rent it out, but he owed me a favor," he responds and she nods her understanding. "I felt it only fair to compensate him for his time and the use of his property, so I paid him for it."

She takes a good look around the cabin and admires the quaint place while he rummages around the cupboards. She's in a fairly good sized room that consists of a comfortable looking couch facing her and a couple over stuffed chairs roughly circled around a coffee table. There's a couple book shelves mostly filled with books, though she can see some games on a couple of shelves. Shoved into the corner of one of the shelves is a small CD player, but other than that, there's no electronic entertainment equipment to be had.

On the far side of the room, separated by a counter that extends from the wall to half way across the room is the kitchen. Not wanting to leave her warm spot and knowing that she's not really going to be using it that much, she just looks over from where she is. The appliances all appear to be fairly new and she's happy to see that there's at least a microwave.

"Can I turn on the heater?" she inquires after looking the place over and not seeing the thermostat. "As much as I like the fire, I'd like to be able to move around without freezing."

"I'm afraid that the fire is the main source of heat in here," he tells her. "You'll notice that the bedroom is directly behind the fireplace. This allows the excess heat to warm up that room instead of being lost to the world outside."

"Very cleaver," she notes as she finally warms up enough to at least open her coat and shed her glove and scarf.

"Not really," he says as he starts filling up a large pot with water. "Until the invention of central heating, houses were normally built with the fireplace in a central location. It's just common sense."

"Something a lot of people are lacking these days," she mutters as she gets up and retrieves her art bag.

"You'll get no argument from me," he replies while he turn off the water and puts the pot on the stove. "I hope you don't mind a simple supper tonight. It's been a long drive and I'm not feeling particularly creative this evening."

When he only gets a noncommittal grunt, he looks over at her and finds her drawing once more. A smile starts to pull at his lips until he remembers Ororo's call earlier. He wonders if she ever plans on telling him the truth and a frown creases his brow as he turns back to making their dinner.

* * *

She watches him from the doorway of the bedroom as he reads his book so intently, that he doesn't even so much as glance at her. All she's wearing is the little negligee Doug talked her into buying and the matching robe that she's eternally glad she bought and she wonders if he'd notice her if she was wearing nothing at all. She's not sure what's going on, but he seems to have had something on his mind for a while now.

Ever since she woke up in the car, he's been quiet and rather distant. What little dinner conversation they had was on nice safe subjects, like the weather and the local flora and fauna. She's not sure what's up, but if what she's wearing doesn't draw his attention back to her, she's not sure anything will.

Fighting back the need to shiver as a stray draft makes it right up her robe, she quietly pads across the hardwood floor to the couch. She settles down next to him with her feet curled up underneath her and stares at him. After nearly a minute of him not even acknowledging her presence, she scoots closer. She hopes that he'll at least put an arm around her so that she can cuddle up next to him and get warm. She frowns as he continues to ignore her and she decides use a different tactic.

"What are you reading?" she asks.

"Descartes," he answers coolly.

He gives her a cursory glance out of the corner of his eye as he turns the page and nearly drops the book. The little robe she's wearing clings to all the right places and he can feel his blood starting to head south while Beast sits up and takes notice. She moves a little bit and becomes very evident that if she's wearing anything under that little bit of cloth, it's not much.

"I'm in the mood for some tea," he states suddenly as he launches himself off of the sofa. "Would you care for some as well?"

"No, thank you," she replies, confusion evident in her voice.

"Then perhaps some hot chocolate?" he suggests as he quickly heads for the kitchen. "I believe I saw a box of it in the cupboard earlier."

"I'm not thirsty, thank you," she responds as she gets up and goes to stand near the kitchen table.

She watches as he bustles around the kitchen, putting the tea kettle on, getting out a mug and selecting a tea. She can see him occasionally glancing in her direction, so there's no doubt in her mind that he knows what she's wearing. Her stomach ties itself into a knot as she begins getting the sinking feeling that his interest in her has already started to wane.

"Did I do something wrong?" she blurts out, even catching herself by surprise and he pauses for a moment.

"I was curious about something," he starts hesitantly while he carefully places the tea bag in the cup, keeping his back to her. "What's your sister's full name?"

"Annabel Marie Gifford" she responds, a bit confused.

"Why does your sister wear customized contact lenses?" he inquires and when she doesn't immediately respond, he continues. "I noticed that her pupil size never changed no matter what the lighting condition."

"The treatment that saved her life when she was six left her with a sensitivity to bright light," she answers a few moments later, a hint of sadness in her voice. "if she's not wearing the contacts, then she'll be wearing sunglasses with very dark lenses."

There's more silence between them as she shifts around and pulls the rope tighter around her as she tries to stay warm. A moment later the tea kettle whistles and he pours the boiling water into his mug. His mind is going a mile a minute as he figures out how he wants to continue, never noticing the cold mask her face is taking on.

"I find it interesting that while Annie's nails are much shorter than yours, she left scratch marks on your face, yet when you did the same to her, there were none," he says in a tight controlled voice and it's all the evidence she needs to know what's going on.

"I hate to disappoint you, Ambassador, but my sister is happily married with children and it's very unlikely that you'll be able to convince her to leave her family for you," she states in a cold, hard voice.

He blinks several times in confusion and by the time he turns around to talk to her, she's gone. He hears the bedroom door firmly shut a moment later and he stares at it, completely befuddled by her reaction. Without consciously telling his feet to move, he finds himself headed for the bedroom.

He listens at the door and he can hear her moving around inside. He quietly opens the portal where he finds her finishing pulling on her regular clothes and a pile of unfolded clothes on the bed. He steps into the room and sees that the silky little number that she had just been wearing is on the floor next to the garbage can.

He steps into the room and a glittering something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. He sees the necklace he gave her sitting peacefully on the night stand and his brow wrinkles in a frown. He takes the few steps needed to reach the spot and then carefully picks it up by the chain.

"You're not wearing your necklace," he calmly observes, remembering the last time he found it when she took it off in anger.

"It was hurting my neck," she coolly replies as she starts to fold the clothes on the bed. "It's heavier than I'm used to."

"I would imagine that after your fall, every little thing must hurt," he says and he tries to suppress the images of her from this morning when he helped her bathe.

"I guess it doesn't help that whatever electronic gizmo's in there has added to the weight," she responds and he nearly stops breathing as his heart rate skyrockets while his brain begins racing through all of the she could have found out. "Paul told me that there was something in there, that it's powerful and it'll last a long time. However, he wasn't able to tell what it does. Care to enlighten me? Or do I get a screwdriver and pry that locket open? Or maybe I should just take a hammer to it? After all, it could be something quite dangerous to me. I received more than one death threat after Serena's case."

"It won't blow up or harm you in any way," he assures her quickly. "It's a neural dampener and I created it to keep you safe."

"And who's neurons are getting dampened?" she asks, a hint of anger in her voice.

"James Jones," he tells her without hesitation. "It took me more than three weeks to get it set to the right frequency and I now owe the man who helped me a major favor, but it was all worth it to know that you'll be safe when I'm not around. I will sleep better at night knowing that he cannot coerce you into doing anything against your will when I'm not there to put him in his place."

"How close does he have to be for it to work?" she questions, some of her anger fading with his words.

"As soon as he's within fifty feet of you, his powers will be dampened," he answers, noting that she's not looking at him. "If you have to go to court, this should even the playing field."

"What if the battery goes out when he's around?" she inquires.

"As long as you're wearing it, or even have it on you somewhere the power should remain constant," he says. "Just you moving around will give it the power it needs."

They stand there in silence for some time as she continues to sloppily fold her clothes.

"Are you upset that I did this?" he finally asks.

"No," she answers. "I think it was very sweet that you did it, but I do wish you had told me before Paul found out that there was something in there. I've been kind of freaked out the past couple of days because of it."

"I do apologize for that," he replies contritely.

"It's ok," she assures him.

"Do you need help putting it back on?" he questions.

"No, thank you," she responds.

"Why not?" he inquires, a bit hurt that she doesn't want to wear his gift.

"Because for one, I doubt that James is going to come bursting through the door and for two, it really was hurting my neck," she tells him.

"I understand," he replies as he carefully puts the item back down on the nightstand.

They stand there in silence again until he remembers why he came into the room in the first place.

"What makes you think I'm romantically interested in your sister?" he asks and Beast hisses at the idea.

"Why shouldn't you be?" she demands and she can feel the muscles in her shoulders tightening up. "Everyone loves, sweet, quiet, shy, demure Annie. She's nothing like loud, obnoxious, opinionated, domineering Amy. Why shouldn't my own supposed boyfriend like her more than me too? It's not like you'd be the first guy that chose her over me."

"Amanda," he starts in a firm tone.

"It doesn't seem to matter where I go or what I do, it all comes back to Annie," she continues bitterly as if he hadn't said a thing. "I've got to wonder why you even bothered to drag me out here if it's my sister you're really interested in."

"I am not interested in your sister," he states through gritted teeth.

"Then why ask me questions about her?" she snaps and her hands start shaking, making it hard to fold her clothes. "Why bring her up at all? She's hundreds of miles away and I'm right here!"

"I got a most interesting call on the way up here from Ororo," he tells her, quickly reigning in his ire. "It seems that sixteen years ago Xavier's got a student with enhanced senses, green eyes like a cat and the ability to change into a black panther."

She doesn't answer him and doesn't look at him. The only thing she does do is stop folding her clothes.

"The student's name was Annabel Marie Simon from Ashley, Virginia," he nearly snarls. "Her parents were Cathy and Stuart Simon and her identical twin sister...Amanda Rachel Simon."

"Your point?" she questions, still not looking at him.

"My point is that if one identical twin is a mutant, so is the other," he reminds her, barely containing the hurt he's feeling. "You lied to me."

"I have never lied to you," she states, finally looking him in the eye. "I may not have told you every little thing about my life, but neither have you."

"Lying through omission is still lying," he snaps.

"What omission?" she demands. "I've told you point plank that I'm not a mutant."

"That's impossible," he shoots back. "Your identical twin is a mutant. This means you are too."

"Oh really?" she snarls. "And what exactly is my mutation, Hank? Hurting myself? Because if it is, I might be tempted to switch powers with Rogue."

"Not all mutations are blatantly obvious," he heatedly points out. "I've known many mutants who could pass as normal."

"But I am normal," she insists loudly. "I spent three years of my life checking myself in the mirror, analyzing every little thing that happened around me and wondering if I somehow caused it with my undiscovered powers. I actually hoped that I would become a mutant like Annie and then maybe my parents would finally realize that I was just as special as she is...But then one day, my parents let a couple vampires take my blood and they tested it. As angry as I was at them for their method of getting their sample, they were my last hope for finding out what my mutation was. You can't imagine how upset I was when I found out that I am completely, boringly normal."

"What were the names of these people?" he asks. "I am must curious to know who these people were that you and your parents would trust their results."

She narrows her eyes and glares at him before grinding the names out through her teeth.

"Jean Grey and Charles Xavier."

* * *

**A/N II:** So, once the mushroom cloud from the bomb I just dropped clears, please leave a review.


	75. The Whole Truth

**Author's Notes: ** Sorry that this chapter took a while, especially since I said that I had already written it. I had to rewrite it a couple times to make it work. The first time I wrote this it was long hand and Amanda had monologue that was 2 ½ pages long. Not good. But it's done now and all is right with the world. A big thank you to my reviewers: Coffeelver72, kudokuchan69, Music is my Muse, LilyHellsing, Descia, Maraluch, GabrielsDoubt, xdanishxpastryx, Jinx of the 2nd Law, dandysgirl03 and theNightEnchantress.

* * *

The shock of hearing those two names leaves him speechless for several minutes and while he's recovering, she goes back to folding her clothes. When he finally looks over at her, he can see that her face is set in a cold mask again, but her actions are anything but calm if the sloppily folded clothes are anything to go by. He can almost feel her anger radiating from the other side of the bed and he has to remind himself to proceed with caution.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you told me what exactly happened," he says carefully.

She doesn't slow down her folding, but he knows she heard him as he can see that her face becomes a bit redder and a muscle twitches next to her eye.

"Do you want the long version or the Cliff notes version?" she asks, a touch of hostility in her voice.

"Cliff notes, please," he requests. "I'll ask for clarification if I need it."

She collects her thoughts for a while as he watches patiently, waiting for an explanation for her obvious dislike towards a couple people he once cared for. She tries to make the pile of folded clothes neater as she figures out how to tell him things that she's never told anyone else before. He has to remind himself to be patient as she seems to be taking forever and then finally, she takes a deep breath.

"At age six, Annie got sick and was saved by an experimental treatment," she starts while he bites his tongue to keep from reminding her that he already knows that and then something clicks in the back of his mind. "At eleven, she woke up in the middle of the night screaming that her eyes were burning. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong with her, but when the pain finally went away, she had cat eyes. Shortly after that, we moved to Virginia. When she was fourteen, she was attacked by some guy on the run from the law who was hiding out in the woods behind the house. That's when we found out she could turn into a black panther."

She pauses for a bit and he patiently waits, knowing the hardest part is about to come.

"There was a huge media frenzy over the guy's death," she continues. "When it was over, the authorities claimed that the mountain lion that had killed the guy must have moved on. About a week after everything settled down Xavier and Gray arrived at our front door."

He watches her and notices that her face is pale now and beads of sweat have appeared on her forehead and upper lip.

"They were all set to take both Annie and me to the school, but when they found out that I hadn't shown any signs of being a mutant, that's when things got ugly," she says and he can see her starting to tremble. "Xavier wanted a blood sample, I said 'no' and then Mom told him to use whatever means necessary. I tried to leave, but the next thing I knew I was sitting at the kitchen table with my arm out. I couldn't move, I couldn't scream. I couldn't do anything but what he told me to. I watched as he told Gray how to draw my blood. I had hated needles before that, but I'll never get the image out of my head of that needle going in and me not being able to do or say anything about it.."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he softly tells her as he starts to move around the bed. "Charles was normally a lot more sensitive towards other people's feelings. I can't imagine why he would be so callous towards yours."

"Might have had something to do with the fact that I threatened to push him down the front steps if he laid a hand on me," she replies and his mouth drops open.

"You didn't," he gasps a few moments later after recovering from his shock.

"I never said I was an angel, Hank," she points out a bit heatedly as she grabs another item off of the pile of clothes. "In fact, I've told you several times that I'm the evil twin."

"You're not evil, my love," he assures her as he steps up to her. "Angry, hurt and lashing out, yes, but not evil. It's no wonder that you're on antidepressants."

She doesn't say anything, but he can see the muscles in her neck and shoulders tighten. She turns away from him and this worries him. He tries to move into her line of sight, but she refuses to look at him.

"Amanda, why are you on antidepressants?" he asks, concern tingeing his words.

"Do you remember when I said I wanted to crawl in a hole and die after I found out that Keith was just using me to get his rocks off back in college?" she counter questions in voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeeesss," he hesitantly answers.

"It wasn't for lack of trying," she states as she hangs her head in shame.

"How...?" he starts, but he's not sure which question he wants to ask or even if he should ask any of them.

"Sleeping pills and cheep whiskey," she answers, still not looking up at him. "Can't say that I recommend that combination. Doug's the one who found me and called 9-1-1. The things they did to me when I got to the emergency room..."

He reaches out and gently touches her shoulder as she gives into a full body shudder. When she doesn't pull away, he takes this as a good sign and carefully wraps his arms around her trembling form. She makes a strange sound that's reminiscent of a wounded animal and he holds her closer as the dam finally breaks.

He scoops her up into his arms when her legs give out and he's rather glad for his mutation as he balances on one leg. With the other leg, he pushes all of the clothing onto the floor and then climbs onto the bed with her still in his embrace. She's completely oblivious to what he's doing as she continues to make noises like a hurt and frightened animal.

Once he has them situated on the bed, she curls up into a tight ball and starts to wail even louder. He holds her close as all the years of pain and suffering that she's been keeping bottled up come flooding out. He tries to use his body to shield her from the rest of the world as her sobs wrack her body and it kills him inside that she's been holding onto this for so long.

He buries his nose into her soft hair as he whispers words of love and acceptance and he comfortingly strokes her back and tresses. Her fingers grab a hold of his shirt and she clings to him as if her very life depends on it while she presses her face against his neck. Despite the fact that she has a very solid grasp of his chest hairs, he doesn't pull away and continues to comfort her the best he can.

It seems to take hours for all of the emotional pain to drain out of her and he couldn't care less. It could take days as far as he's concerned and he would continue to sit there with her, never leaving her side. Since he's given his heart to her, he can do little else.

When at long last the tears run dry, she gives one last shuddering sigh and then goes limp in his arms. After making sure that she's simply fallen asleep, he carefully gets out of the bed with her still safely in his embrace. He puts her to bed, goes out and turns off all of the lights, dumping his tea out in the process, before returning to her. He strips down to his boxers and then climbs between the sheets with her, content in knowing that for the time being, they are safe from the world outside.

* * *

The feeling of someone getting in bed with him wakes him and he's instantly alert. One sniff tells him it's only his lady love and he gladly pulls her close when she snuggles up to him, letting out a contented sigh. It takes several moments for her body temperature to make it through his fur and he starts to rub her back and bare arm to try and warm her up.

"Good heavens, woman, what have you been doing?" he grumbles as she cuddles up even more and her cold digits burrow beneath his fur. "Playing in the snow?"

"No," she snickers as she nuzzles her frigid nose against his cheek. "Just getting some wood from the shed. There was only one piece left next to the fireplace and I needed more to get a good fire going."

"If the fire needed to be built up, you should have woken me," he gently admonishes as he carefully rolls towards her to allow more body contact between them.

"No need," she sighs happily as she buries her face into his fur. "I know how to build a fire and I had to get up anyways."

"Why?"

"Bathroom."

"Oh."

He lets out another happy sigh while he relaxes and tries to drift back to sleep. However, he has to capture and still a mischievous hand that's ghosting over his body while Beast encourages him to explore the silky item beneath his other hand. It's only then that he realizes that she's not wearing the same outfit that she went to bed in.

"Why did you change clothes?" he asks as he tries to slow the blood that's headed for his groin.

"The sweats were living up to their name and I was melting," she answers while she squirms around next to him and he has to bite back a groan. "Besides, there's something very sensual about fur on bare skin."

"You're not playing fair," he moans as her lips find his jaw.

"I'm a lawyer," she reminds him with a devious chuckle. "I'm not supposed to play fair."

He tries to come up with a response, but then she finds his ear and it's all he can do to keep Beast at bay. He groans as his traitorous body eagerly responds to her even though he knows he could hurt her so easily. When she pushes him onto his back, climbs on top of him and then finds his lips with hers, he's sure the war is pretty much over.

His hands seem to develop a mind of their own as they start roaming over her body and completely enjoying the feeling of her soft skin. They gladly caress her thighs before sneaking under that little number she's wearing and his fingers carefully explore the lacy panties she's wearing. He's so hard he wouldn't be surprised if he could knock holes in a brick wall right now.

He grabs her hips and moves her down so that her moist heat is right above his turgid length. He holds her firmly in place as he grinds himself into that sweet spot, the only barrier between them being thin pieces of satin and silk. He moans as that delightful friction starts to drive him mad while she lets out a strangled whimper and it takes his lust fogged brain several moments to register the sound as a bad one.

"Amanda, no!" he nearly yells as he none to gently pushes her off and she lets out a yelp of surprise and pain as she hits the bed. "This is why we mustn't do this. I'll hurt you."

"Why did you bring me out here?" she softly asks, the emotional pain evident in her voice.

"I wanted you to relax and heal," he answers miserably, knowing that he's hurt her again. "I know if I left you in New York you'd just work yourself ragged. Your body needs to heal in a quiet atmosphere."

"I can't relax here," she tells him dejectedly as she slides out of bed.

"Why not?" he asks, sitting up.

He can easily see the multitude of bruises covering her arms, shoulders and legs in the low light of the room and once again he curses himself for not going after her sooner.

"Because you're here," she retorts as she finds her sweat pants and starts pulling them on again. "How the Hell can I relax when the man I want most in this miserable world is sitting right there but won't even touch me?"

"Amanda, I just hurt you!" he reminds her heatedly. "How can that possibly be enjoyable?"

"It's more manageable than the emotional pain I'm feeling right now," she whispers as she grabs her sweat shirt off of the floor and bolts out of the room.

"Amanda!" he yells as he gives chase.

He easily catches up with her just as she reaches the bathroom door and barely manages to get between her and the doorway.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demands, trying not to growl.

"The bathroom," she says, her voice and body both shaking. "It's not like I can go any place else. You've effectively trapped me out here."

"I don't want you to feel trapped and I will take you back to New York if that's what you really want," he says, misery tingeing his words. "But I must ask why you feel this way."

"You're here," she repeats, refusing to look him in the eye. "How can you expect me to calmly sit around when you're here? To be told that you're not going to touch me or love me is the worse kind of torture."

"You're injured," he reminds her. "I don't want to risk hurting you further."

"You think I don't know that!?" she demands loudly, assaulting his sensitive hearing. "You think I don't feel the throbbing in my head and arm when the pain killers start to wear off? That I don't feel the aching muscles every time I move? Every time I bump into something, I'm reminded of that stupid fall. Trust me, Hank, I know what my body is feeling better than you do!"

"I can't risk hurting you," he reiterates, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

"I'm willing to take the chance," she softly replies.

"I'm not," he firmly states.

"Then take me back to New York," she pleads, on the verge of tears. "I can't take you pushing me away any more."

"Is this what our relationship going to be based on? Sex?" he quietly asks.

"I'm not asking for sex every second of every day, but please stop pushing me away," she begs, her voice filled with emotional pain. "I need to have that physical connection again."

"Again?" he queries, confused.

"After Annie got better, it was like she became my parents' whole world," she tells him, calming only slightly. "Every little scrape or bruise was comforted with hugs and kisses. When I got hurt I was told to go wash up and try not to bleed on the carpet."

"They weren't really that bad, were they?" he asks in concern

"Probably not, but when your seven, it sure seems like it," she responds dejectedly. "Hank, I've spent the past twenty-four years of my life having very little physical love and then you came along. I know we've only been this close for less than a week, but it's like I've been starving for it and I never knew it until recently. Now you're telling me I can't have it any more and I don't think I can take the rejection. If you've grown tired of me so soon, please don't torment me like this. Take me back and just let it be over."

"I haven't tired of you and I'm certainly not ready for this to be over," he tells her as he gently pulls her into his arms. "But every time I see your injuries, I can't help but blame myself for them. You must remember what it was like the first two times we made love. I was less then gentle with you and I can't risk that I would lose control again. If there was a way that I could be sure I wouldn't hurt you or be reminded of your injuries, then I would gladly make love to you."

She leans her head against his shoulder and he gently rubs her back, sad that he can't give her what she wants. He's at least glad that she's no longer fighting with him and with a sigh, his nose finds itself deep in her tresses again. He's only marginally aware that she hasn't relaxed against him like she normally does and as his eyes start to close, she pushes back slightly.

"Is something wrong?" he asks worriedly, not really wanting to go another round of why he will not risk hurting her.

"Were you serious when you said that we would make love if there was a way to do it without seeing my bruises or touching me?" she questions, staring him in the eye as if she's daring him to go back on his word.

"Yes, I was serious," he answers hesitantly.

"Good, then I suggest you use the bathroom if you need it and then meet me back in the bedroom," she says in an authoritative voice as she steps out of his embrace.

"Umm...," he stutters, a bit stunned as she heads across the room towards the front door. "Where are you going?"

"After I get a sexual aide, I'm heading for the bedroom," she tells him as she starts looking for something on the hooks next to the door. "By the way, where are condoms?"

"They're in one of my bags," he replies, watching her as she pulls out her scarf. "What are you planning, my little minx?"

"You'll just have to come to the bedroom to find out, now won't you?" she teases and he can feel his blood starting to pooling in his crotch. "Which bag are the condoms in?"

"The small blue one," he responds, his gaze never leaving her as she heads for the bedroom door.

"Good," she says before giving him a sultry look. "If you're not going to use the bathroom, I suggest you get your furry blue butt into the bedroom."

"I'll be right out," he states and quickly disappears into the washroom.

By the time he makes it back into the bedroom, the little paper bag with the condoms and lube is sitting on the nightstand. He can also see that her scarf is laying across the one pillow at the head of the bed. He only casts those items a cursory glance before his gaze falls on her and he barely manages not to stumble as most of his blood starts rushing to his boxers.

She's sitting on her knees in the middle of the bed wearing the robe from last night and the way it's opened, it appears that she's wearing nothing else. She gets a knowing smirk on her face and then crooks a finger at him. He can do little else but obey and he climbs onto the bed beside her. She gives him a slow, sensual kiss that he can feel right down to his toenails and his hand seems to develop a mind of its own again as it slides through the opening in the robe.

He moans as he encounters nothing but warm, soft flesh and he knows he needs more, but he doesn't dare. With a great deal of willpower that's not being helped by a horny Beast, he breaks off their kiss. He looks into those eyes dark with desire and wants nothing more than to be able to take her right then and there.

"Amanda," he starts but is silenced by a single finger on his lips.

"I want you to tell me if I'm hurting you or doing anything you don't like," she instructs and he slightly frowns at her. "Promise me?"

He finally nods and she smiles as her finger slides off of his lips. He wants nothing more than to be able to suck on that escaping digit and he gets ready to chase it when suddenly she wraps her scarf around his eyes. He's startled at first, but he chuckles at her ingenuity.

"You've taken care of me seeing your injuries, my dear, but what do you intend to do about this?" he asks as the hand that wandered into the robe with her cups a breast and she gasps.

"Lie down on your back with your arms up and crossed at the wrists," she pants as she reluctantly pulls away from him.

He pouts slightly at the loss of contact, but does as she tells him. Once he's comfortably lying down the way she wants him to, she straddles his chest and her heady scent sends Beast into a frenzy. So concerned is he with his primal half's behavior, that he barely notices her loosely wrapping something soft and silky around his wrists and her torso barely an inch above his face.

_MATE!_ Beast screams in his head. _CUBS! WANT CUBS! MATE NOW!_

He takes a deep breath and he finally comprehends what's got it so worked up. Her smell has intensified and now he understands her need for love making. He groans in agony as the combination of her scent and Beast's antics make it nearly impossible to just lie still.

"Am I hurting you?" she asks in concern, pausing in tying off his hands.

"No, my love," he moans as he pushes himself down into the mattress. "You're ovulating."

"Oookaaay," she says, confusion evident in her voice.

"Beast has decided it wants cubs," he tells her and he can feel the heat of her body radiating onto his face.

"Cubs?" she questions.

"Children," he clarifies, resisting the urge to start nibbling on the flesh above him. "It wants children and I sincerely doubt that it will be overly happy when you put the condom on me."

_NO! _Beast shrieks. _WANT CUBS!_

"So I guess me spending hours driving you crazy is out of the question, isn't it?" she teases while she sits back up and he nearly moans as her body moves out of his lips reach.

"I can't recommend it," he replies shakily, trying to keep a crazed Beast at bay.

"Then I guess I better get to work," she purrs just before her lips start to drive him insane.


	76. Feelings

**Author's Notes: ** Just a bit of a reminder, Amanda has been through a very traumatic experience both mentally and physically and as such, she's very needy right now. As she gets better, she will return to her former self, but things like that take time. Thanks to my reviewers: LilyHellsing, theNightEnchantress, Descia, Neotoma, kudokuchan69, Jinx of the 2nd Law and dog youkai jane.

* * *

Her lips explore his face while she wiggles her bottom further down his torso so that she's partially laying down on top of him and he groans. He fights Beast for dominance while her fingers ghost over his arms, chest and whatever else they can reach and he's fairly sure that he'll be needing a nice padded room when this is over. She finds his earlobe and immediately starts sucking on it causing him to reach for the headboard, scrabbling to gain purchase on it.

"I am so not explaining why there are scratches in your friend's oak headboard," she chuckles before she gently bites his lobe.

"I'll buy him a new one," he moans as she starts to work on his neck.

He makes noises he wasn't even aware he was capable of as she squirms down his body a bit more so that her moist heat is close enough that he can feel it through the silk of his boxers and she uses her teeth to drive him to the brink of insanity. He's almost certain his heart is going to explode right out of his chest as she continues to torment him and he swears he can hear her snickering at him. He briefly wonders why he's getting so worked up so quickly and then he's given a rude reminder.

_MATE!_ Beast screams, pushing for dominance. _CUBS! MATE! MATE! MATE!_

"Hush, you," he quietly grumbles and she pauses in her exploration of his chest.

"Excuse me?" she asks, confusion and a hint of anger in her voice.

"Not you, Beast," he hastily explains. "It wants to take over and mate with you so it can have cubs. It's getting quite insistent too, I might add. Perhaps moving things along would be best."

"Yes, perhaps it would," she slyly purrs and he just knows she's up to no good.

A moment later he feels her fingertips finding his nipples hidden deep in his fur and he gasps, never realizing how sensitive they are. With no warning, her lips and tongue latches onto one of those sensitive buds causing him to arch his back right off of the bed and she holds on like a bronco rider. After getting over the shock, he lets his body fall back down onto the bed, causing the bed to groan in protest and he's gasping for air like a fish out of water.

He pants while she sucks and teases that little blue spot of flesh and he's not sure if he's relieved or disappointed when she finally lets it go. When the second nipple gets the same treatment, he instinctively grabs the back of her head, holding her in place. She has to struggle a bit, but she finally manages to get out of his grip and then sits up on his stomach.

"Am I hurting you?" she asks, worry tingeing her words.

"No," he gasps, trying to keep Beast at bay.

"Did I do something you didn't like?" she questions in concern as his hands try to stroke her.

"Oh my stars and garters no!" he quickly assures her.

"Then get your hands back where they belong or I'm going to tie them to the headboard," she orders with a growl.

His hands return to their previous position so fast she's surprised that they don't break the sound barrier. She finally slides off of him and he huffs in disappointment, not bothering to hide his pout. However a moment later her fingers are gently exploring his belly and he moans with his need while his hard cock bounces in anticipation.

"Now where was I?" she purrs as a finger slips under the elastic band of his boxers. "Oh yes, I was working on driving you insane."

"Amanda...," he starts to warn.

He can't finish his sentence as her fingers stroke him from his hip to the inner part of his upper thigh and his pelvis instinctively curves forward. She begins nuzzling his abdomen until she finds his belly button and he all but loses control as she starts concentrate on that part of his body. He can't help but whimper when more of her fingers start playing under with the band of his shorts and his legs start to twitch with his pent up energy.

"Amanda, please," he begs while Beast starts screaming to mate again.

"'Please' what?" she asks coyly as her hand slides down to his leg and then starts to work its way up the leg hole, never touching his aching manhood.

"Please make love to me," he gasps as the back of her fingers grazes his sack and he nearly loses it.

"I guess these will have to go then," she purrs while those torturous digits start to tug on his waistband.

In a move that leaves her speechless, he uses his feet, considerable strength and incredible flexibility to get the blasted thing off of his person.

"Wow," she murmurs as he settles back down onto the bed. "I've seen contortionists with less flexibility."

"I'm fighting a Beast that wants cubs, so please don't dawdle," he warns as Beast has another tantrum.

"Yes, I guess I do have my work cut out for me, don't I?" she teases while

Her fingers pet his his hips, just avoiding that throbbing, leaking member and he has to control himself and Beast even more. Before he can warn her that he can only hold Beast back for so long, he feels her fingertip gently swipe over the tip of his erection. He groans with his need, nearly at the end of his rope and he barely notices her shudder beside him.

"Are you all right?" he asks in concern.

"That's going to take some getting used to," she replies as another tremor shakes her body.

"What will?" he inquires.

"The...uh...stuff, that was coming out of your..um...," she stammers and he can just imagine her blushing.

"The pre-cum?" he questions as he fights back a knowing smile.

"Yeah, that," she grumbles.

"Well, it's not really meant for human consumption, now is it?" he teases, unable to hide his grin.

"No, I suppose it isn't," she replies, a hint of danger in her voice and he opens his mouth to tease her further.

"Gah!" is the most coherent thing he can say as her fingers start stroking and caressing that hardened piece of flesh and the sensitive sack beneath it.

"Is there something you wanted to say?" she asks, the minx now fully back in control.

"C-c-c-condom," he stammers and she leans over until they're nose to nose.

"As my love commands," she whispers just before planting a gentle kiss on his lips.

Before he can even think about trying to deepen that buss, she slips away from him. He clamps his jaws shut to keep from groaning again and he's barely aware of the sound of a paper bag opening. He tries to concentrate on keeping Beast under control while she empties the contents onto the bed.

"Hmm," she hums when she opens the box of condoms.

"'Hmm'?" he queries worriedly. "Why 'hmm'?"

"We're down to the last condom," she tells him as she tosses the now empty box onto the nightstand.

"I'll get more after the stores open," he promises her in a slightly strained voice. "Amanda, please..."

She leans over and gently kisses him again as she opens the little packet. Soon the prophylactic is being rolled down his length and he lets out a strangled moan while Beast shrieks in protest. When she starts spreading the lube along his erection he forces his head back into the pillow, grits his teeth and balls his hands into fists as he fights Beast for control.

"Amanda, please," he pleads with a strangled voice.

Her hand stills its movements, but doesn't release him as the lube bottle is tossed off to the side. With a minor amount of difficulty, she finally manages to straddle his hips and he groans as she hovers above him. It takes her a few moments to get perfectly balanced while Beast continues to howl to mate for cubs, but before he can completely lose his mind, she finally sheaths him in her moist heat.

They both moan at the feeling of him fully ensconced inside of her and he's not sure who's trembling harder, but he wouldn't be surprised if the entire room was vibrating at this point. A moment later, he can feel her left hand in the middle of his chest with her weight leaning into it and it takes him a second to realize she's bracing herself.

Slowly she starts moving up and down and he tries not to whimper at the tortuously sedate pace she's going. It's not helping his sanity that Beast is going mad trying to take control and he wants nothing more than take over the love making himself, but he knows can't risk hurting her. With every ounce of self control that he's learned over the years, he lets her continue even when she moves wrong and he slips out of her.

A while later, he's back inside her and she leans forward with her hand on his chest again as she start to ride him. He tries to match her movements, but they're too erratic and he ends up sliding out once more. With a puff of frustration, she sits back and puts him back in.

Blaming himself, he keeps as still as he can as she starts moving again. She rides him as best she can, but the combination of her inexperience and her injuries slightly offsetting her balance means he keeps popping out. She's nearly in tears from the frustration and he doesn't need his eyes to know that she's about ready to give up.

Without thinking about it, he easily frees his hands from their fetters and grabs her hip in one hand while he takes a hold of his cock in the other. He gets himself inside of her, moves his hands up to her waist where he knows there's less bruising and then digs his heels into the bed. Without so much as a 'by your leave', he begins pushing his hips up into her.

She lets out an inarticulate cry as his powerful thrusts start driving her to the edge. She leans more of her weight onto his chest while he continues to pound into her heat. The noises the two of them are making are nearly deafening, but they don't care as they race towards oblivion.

A short eternity later, she's screaming her release with him roaring his own a moment later. She collapses onto him as if all of the bones in her body have been turned to mush. He gladly holds her trembling form to him even though his arms barely want to move and he couldn't be happier about it.

When he feels his softened member slide out of her, he reluctantly shifts her onto the bed with great care and then carefully removes her scarf from his eyes. She grumbles as he moves away and he leans over to kiss her forehead.

"I'll be back in a moment, love," he softly assures her before going off to deal with the used condom.

He carefully checks to make sure that the rubber is completely intact and gives a sigh of relief that there are no holes or tears. Beast, of course, is less than pleased if the growls and hisses are anything to go by and Hank just chuckles at it. With a smile firmly planted on his face, he returns to the bedroom and his lovely lady.

"What are you so smug about?" she asks, a smile tugging at her own lips.

"The condom was fully intact when I removed it," he happily tells her.

"Don't we want _all_ of the condoms to be like that when we're done with them?" she inquires as he climbs into the bed with her.

"Yes, but more so now that you're ovulating," he replies while he lies down.

"I majored in law, Hank, not biology," she reminds him, snuggling up to him.

"If we were to have unprotected sex right now, you would stand a very good chance of getting pregnant," he says as he pulls the covers over the two of them.

"Ok, that would be bad," she agrees while she lays her head down on his shoulder.

_NO!_ Beast shouts. _WANT CUBS!_

"Beast disagrees with us," he chuckles. "Fortunately, the votes are 2-1 against having cubs. We win by majority vote."

She laughs and he's not sure he's ever heard a more wonderful sound.

"I haven't heard you laugh since we played Scrabble," he sighs as he nuzzles her hair. "It's good to hear it again."

"I guess I haven't had a lot to laugh about the past few days," she murmurs while she tries to bury her face into his fur.

He kisses the top of her head and holds her as close as he dares as she starts to tremble. He whispers how much he loves her as she rides the latest emotional roller coaster and he patiently waits. When the trembling finally ends, he loosens his grip on her slightly, but still keeps her safely in his arms.

"Might I ask for some clarification of some of the things you told me last night?" he asks.

"I suppose," she mutters and he can hear by the tone of her voice that she's not thrilled with the idea.

"The treatment that saved Annie's life, what exactly did they do?" he questions.

"I'm not sure what exactly they did, but I can tell you what I saw," she answers softly and her body violently shudders before she continues. "We were at the hospital when they did the procedure and Dad was supposed to be watching me, but he got distracted by the TV they had set up in the waiting room. I guess I decided I wanted to see Annie, so I walked to her room by myself. They had her strapped down to the bed and there were needles in both of her arms with tubing that had blood going out of her body from one arm, through some machine and then back into the other arm. I remember her crying and screaming and I found out later they couldn't knock her out since it wouldn't do any good since they were pumping the blood out of her and they didn't want the medicine messing up what the machine was doing."

"Do have any idea what the machine did?" he inquires a few moments after her trembling calms down again.

"No," she whispers. "I do know that it was never approved for use by the government."

"It's the treatment that caused her to become a mutant though," he states.

"Yes, otherwise she would have been a carrier like me," she replies. "If I ever do have children, they stand a very good chance of being mutants."

"If I'm the father, I'd say the chance becomes a guarantee," he points out.

"Let's not rush things, shall we?" she squeaks worriedly.

"Not to worry, my love," he chuckles, nuzzling her hair again. "I'm in no rush to become a father."

"Easy for you to say," she mutters grumpily. "Men can have kids well into their 90s, but a woman is given only a certain amount of time before the well runs dry. And if you listen to my mother, my well is already starting to get a bit low."

"Fortunately for us, it's not up to her," he replies.

"Yeah, but she doesn't have your number on speed dial or your email address," she retorts with a humph.

"Yes, well, I'm sure I'll get my fair share once my mother finds out you're coming for Easter," he sighs and he can feel her smiling. "No need to be so smug."

"I didn't say a thing," she replies, but he can hear the laughter in her voice.

"Minx," he grumbles and he has to remind himself to behave as she silently snickers beside him.

After a while, she settles down and he can feel her relaxing beside him.

"I'm a bit perplexed about something," he says as he gently starts to rub her back.

"What's that?" she asks, barely conscious as he large warm hand makes her relax.

"I can understand your dislike for Charles since he forced you to hold still, but Jean was usually very gentle when it came to needles," he states.

He's quite ready for her to start shaking or crying or both, but he's rather surprised when she suddenly sits up and holds her left hand out to him as if she wants him to shake it.

"Congratulations, sir, you've finally met the person whom she first got to practice on," she retorts a bit heatedly.

"Oh, dear," he moans in remorse as he pulls her back into his arms. "Why would Charles have her do such a thing?"

"Well, it wasn't like they were expecting to have to draw blood when they got there," she reminds him. "I think it was just an opportunity that he took advantage of and I kind of like to think that he took my threat seriously about me pushing him down the stairs if he laid a hand on me. But it's more likely that he was just getting back at me for saying it."

"Charles wasn't that petty," he tells her and she sits up, moving away from him.

"You weren't there," she snaps as she turns her back on him.

"You're right, I wasn't, I'm sorry," he replies contritely as he sits up and scoots up behind her.

"At least she had the decency to apologize every time she missed the vein," she grumbles while he pulls her back into his arms.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he responds sadly as he holds her close and she leans against him. "What did you do after they had the sample?"

"He released me and I ran off into the woods," she answers as she twists around enough to bury her face into his his fur. "By the time I came home, they had taken Annie to New York with them. I'm surprised that you never saw Annie while she was there."

"I was in college sixteen years ago and either returned to my parents' place or the mansion only during the holidays," he tells her. "That would have been about the time that Jean started to learn medicine too. I must say that I do find it rather disquieting that Charles had her practice on someone who didn't have an advanced healing factor."

"Can we talk about something else now? Please?" she begs, her body starting to tremble again.

"Of course. Might I ask why you had packed that rather tantalizing little outfit you were wearing earlier?" he asks as he gently strokes her hair. "I find it hard to believe that you would wear it at your parent's home."

"It was supposed to be worn last Saturday night, but after our fight, I was too tired to remember I had even brought it," she sighs. "I could wear it for you later, if you like."

"How about we discuss breakfast?" he suggests after glancing at the clock.

"And that would be a big 'no'," she mutters as she rubs her face into his fur. "I'd rather sleep."

"If you wish to catch a bit more shut eye, then by all means, please rest," he replies while he moves away from her. "As for you wearing that little nightie, I would love to see you in it, but only after your bruises heal."

"Aren't you staying?" she asks as he gets out of the bed.

"I'm afraid the bed is a rather dangerous place for both of us to be right now," he answers and she gives him a funny look.

"Why? Is it suddenly going to grow teeth and claws?" she questions while trying to hold back a snicker.

"Think about it, my love," he says as he looks down at her and gently strokes her cheek with his fingers. "You and me in the same bed, our current state of dress, a Beast that wants cubs and no condoms in the house."

"On second thought, breakfast sounds really good right now," she states as she quickly stands up.

"I thought you'd agree," he chuckles while he goes off to in search of his boxers.

"Besides, you'll need your strength for when you get back from the store," she teases as she starts to get redressed.

"Oh?" he queries, reclaiming his shorts from the top of the curtain rod.

"I fully intend to take advantage of the fact that virtually no one knows we're out here," she purrs as she comes up behind him and wraps her arms around his middle and he looks over his shoulder at her. "I highly recommend getting a much bigger box of condoms this time."

"You're going to be the death of me, woman," he moans, feeling his blood starting towards his nether regions.

"Well, if I am, at least you'll die with a smile on your face," she chuckles as she slips away, grabs her clothes and exits the room.

"A grin that would be worthy of the Cheshire Cat, too," he quietly laughs with a shake of his head and then he starts to get dressed.

* * *

**A/N II:** Cyber brownies go to Neotoma for figuring out that Annie's treatment caused her X gene to become active.


	77. Home Cumming

**Author's Notes:** We're getting to the end so only another chapter or two and then it'll be time to start the next story. There may be a slight delay in getting the next story started since I at least want to finish my other stories first. At any rate, a big thank you to my reviewers: LilyHellsing (sorry about Xavier, but it will be explained in another story), GabrielsDoubt, the NightEnchantress, Kudokuchan69, dog youkai jane, Jinx of the 2nd Law, Neotoma, dandysgirl103 (everyone gets angry sometimes, it's a fact of life) and Temeti.

* * *

He comes barreling into his apartment like a Pamplonian bull, heedless of the marks his luggage leaves on the walls or the noise he's making. As soon as he reaches a suitable spot, his bags are unceremoniously dumped onto the floor and he spins on his heel. He pats his pocket to make sure the precious bundle is still there and then bolts out the door at speeds no normal man can do.

It's been too long since he's heard her voice and it seems to be something shy of forever since he's seen her or held her in his arms. He continues his headlong flight, barely even aware of the other people he's dashing past, but somehow managing to miss. About half way to his destination, he realizes he really should have paid attention to the weather forecast.

* * *

"Sweetie, if you look at that phone one more time, I swear I'm going to dump it in a puddle," he warns in a fake sugary voice and she quickly stuffs the small item safely back in her purse.

"I can't help it," she grumbles as the downpour drums against the over sized umbrella keeping them somewhat dry. "He hasn't called."

"I know," he patiently replies, having endured her less than chipper mood all evening. "Why don't we think about all of the good things that have happened since he went to Australia?"

"Like what?" she huffs as they cross the street towards her apartment. "The fact that I haven't gone completely insane? Instead I'm just turning into the queen bitch of the universe. Even Mr. Steele is avoiding me at work. He's been gone for two months, Doug, and he hasn't called for almost two days. He's never gone more than a day without calling me."

"Ok, well, let's not think about that, shall we?" he responds cheerfully, though it's a bit forced. "How about the fact that you got to spend the weekend with Serena to celebrate her birthday and you didn't get hit in the face with anything?"

"It's a pretty sad state of affairs when I have to mark an occasion by the fact that I _didn't_ get hurt," she retorts.

"You finally got your cast off," he points out.

"About damn well time too," she snarls, unconsciously opening and closing her right hand. "I was about ready to chew my own arm off with how badly it itched under that damn thing."

"James took you to court and you won," he continues slyly and a self satisfied smirk stretches her lips.

"Oh, that _was_ a sight to behold," she purrs, a grin spreading across her face at the memory. "The look on his face when he realized his powers weren't working was priceless. Too bad I couldn't bring a camera in there so I could get a picture of it to show Hank. And when the judge ruled in our favor and awarded me the full amount that I was counter suing the little creep for, I thought he was going to have an aneurysm."

After a good chuckle, they continue to walk along silence, shoulder to shoulder, glad that the pouring rain has driven most everyone inside so the sidewalks are fairly clear. She lets out a depressed sigh and stares at the ground in front of her, trusting him to get her home.

"Come on, sweetie, don't be like that," he says as he wraps his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason why he hasn't called."

"Like what?" she grumbles.

"Like maybe his battery died," he starts.

"It doesn't take nearly two days to recharge a cell phone batter," she growls.

"Maybe he's somewhere that doesn't have cell towers," he continues. "After all, the Outback is supposed to be huge and I doubt they've put towers on Ayers Rock. Yet."

"He's got one of those top of the line cell phones that gets reception anywhere on the planet," she states with a huff. "The only way he wouldn't get reception is if he's on the moon or at the bottom of the ocean. Oh God, what if something horrible has happened to him? I'm only his girlfriend, they notify next of kin for things like that and I haven't even met his parents yet so they wouldn't know how to get hold of me."

"Amanda, I'm sure he's fine," he tries to assure her.

"What if they did something to him?" she demands, her imagination starting to run wild and it's making her panicky. "What if he found out something he wasn't supposed to and they decided to shut him up permanently?"

"I don't think they would be doing nasty things to the U.S. Ambassador to the U.N.," he points out. "There would be lots of bad political juju if the Australians did anything to him."

"What if he's found someone else?" she softly asks several seconds later.

He gives her shoulders a reassuring squeeze as he tries to come up with something that will draw her out of her funk. Then something blue catches his attention and he stops walking, forcing her to halt with him.

"Or maybe, he's been on a plane trying to get back to his lady and couldn't make the call," he tells her.

It takes her depressed brain several moments to realize they've stopped walking and a few more to comprehend what he's just said. She looks at him and sees him grinning from ear to ear. He turns his head to gaze at something in front of them and with a frown creasing her brow, she looks too.

"Oh my God," she gasps as her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open.

She stands there like a deer caught in the headlights and he gently pushes her forward, forcing her to move. That's all she needs to snap her out of it. The next thing he knows he's standing all alone on the sidewalk and he couldn't be happier.

* * *

By the time he turns onto her street, he's soaked to the skin and he wonders if he should just go home instead of presenting himself in such a bedraggled state, but the need to see her is too strong. He trudges on through the quickly growing puddles with his mane plastered to his head and rain water trickling down his collar. The heavy coat he wears does little to deter the driving rain and he resists the urge to shake like a giant blue dog.

As he nears her apartment building, he wonders if he should just return home, get dried off and then return to her when he doesn't look like a drowned cat. He stops in front of the building and stares at it while the need to see her wages war with the desire not to look like he swam all the way back from Australia. He finally choses to return home when his sensitive hearing picks up a voice that is sweeter than an entire choir of angels singing.

He turns towards that delightful sound and sees her walking towards him with Doug by her side and he mentally kicks himself for forgetting it's Sunday. He doesn't wish to intrude on their weekly ritual, but his feet don't seem to want to respond to his commands. He can't tear his eyes away from her and even if Magneto and his Brotherhood suddenly appeared next to him, he wouldn't notice.

He can see the two of them are talking, but her head is down and she seems only interested in staring at the sidewalk. He silently begs her to look up, to see him, but instead it's Doug who spots him first. Doug smiles and then looks down to say something to her while Hank stands there, transfixed by just seeing her again even if it is just the top of her head.

Hank barely notices that they've stopped walking or Doug looking back at him, but he watches intently as she looks first at her friend and then her face turns towards him. There's a heart stopping moment while she just stares at him and he silently curses the weather for making him appear before her in such a messy state. A second later she's running towards him and he couldn't care less what the weather is doing.

She leaps into his waiting arms and he lifts her off of the ground while her arms wrap around his neck. Before he can even greet her, her lips are on his and at that moment the rest of the world simply drops away. He's so lost in the feeling of holding and kissing her again, he doesn't even notice when the rain stops pelting him, even though he can still hear it. When they finally come up for air, he finally notices that he's not getting any wetter and he sees Doug standing right next to them holding his over sized umbrella over the three of them.

"You came back," she whispers as she presses her face against his neck, barely even noticing that it's sopping wet. "You're home...You came back to me."

"I could do little else," he softly tells her, holding her as tightly as he dares. "You hold my heart so that I must return to you and I would have it no other way, my love."

She holds him even tighter and he kisses her wet hair, barely noticing that it's almost as wet as he is.

"You know, you two should get inside before you catch your death colds," Doug suggests after he's been standing there for some time, a smile firmly planted on his face. "As much as I love seeing the two of you together again, I'm starting to freeze my little tush off."

"Oh dear, I'm afraid I've intruded on your Sunday evening, I should go," Hank replies remorsefully, though his arms don't seem to want to let go of their fine catch.

"I'll take a rain check," Doug responds and gives a little giggle at his joke.

"But...," Hank tries to protest.

"No 'buts'," Doug interrupts as he reaches out and starts to gently guide the two lovers towards the door. "You're what she needs right now; not me, not some movie and not even one of her delightful sundaes. Now get inside and go get a proper welcome home. Though I do recommend getting dried off first. Drying the bedding out is _such_ a pain."

"Doug, I...," Hank attempts to start again.

"Not another word," Doug states, holding up a hand in a 'stop' motion. "She's been cranky and miserable since you left and I fully expect you to put a smile back on her face so big that no one will doubt what she's been up to."

Hank can feel his cheeks heating up and with another little giggle, Doug leaves the two of them standing in front of the door to her apartment building. He's half tempted to go after the man and thank him, but the warm body pressed against him is enough to distract him. With a quiet chuckle, he realizes he's still holding her with her feet a couple of inches off of the ground.

"Come, love, it's time to walk," he softly tells her as he loosens his hold, but she just tightens hers. "Amanda, please let go."

"No," she nearly sobs. "If I do, I'll just wake up and find out that this has all been a dream again. I can't take that any more."

He doesn't ask for clarification since he's been having similar dreams himself and he can understand the frustration. Without another word, he shifts his hold on her so that he's holding her with only one arm and then manages to get the other arm under her knees. Once he has her in the bridal hold, he heads for the door and gives the doorman a grateful smile when the older gentleman opens the door for them.

Once they're inside, he turns most of his attention to the woman in his arms, only sparing enough brain power to get them up to her apartment. He's glad that the button for her floor in the elevator is very easy for him to find or he might have to stop whispering his words of love to her to locate the thing. He's not entirely sure how they get past her locked front door, but he's pretty sure it involved some fumbling of the keys before they could get that portal open.

As soon as the door is closed and locked, he sets her back on her feet and presses her against that sizable slab of metal. His lips are on hers and their fingers are fumbling to remove their outer vestments. Her coat at least manages to get hung up on one of the pegs next to the door, but his ends up on the floor in a sodden mess and he couldn't care less about it.

He can feel her pulling his shirt loose from his pants while he tries to unbutton her blouse and silently he curses the manufacturer for making the buttons so small. His lips nibble their way across her jaw to her ear and neck and he can hear her whimpering as her hands start grappling with his belt. The last couple buttons finally give way to his fingers just as his pants and boxers are pushed off of his hips and he can feel any hope of taking it slowly slipping away.

"Hank," she moans as his hands start to explore her warm skin and her hands sink into his wet mane.

With a bit of difficulty, he manages to kick his shoes and pants off while his lips start to explore all of that lovely skin before him. She writhes around, but he has a very firm hold on her as he slowly sinks down to his knees. His hands slide up her back to find the clasp to her bra and soon those luscious globes of flesh are free for him to caress and kiss.

"Oh God, Hank," she whines as grabs hands full of his shirt, not really caring that she's getting fur in the process.

He slowly peels her wet jeans down her legs while his mouth, teeth and tongue drive her insane with need and he's only doing marginally better than she is. He gently nips and nibbles her belly just above her panties as he works on removing her shoes and pants and all she can do is cling to him and whimper and moan while her whole body starts to tingle. Being this close to her, smelling her, feeling her, tasting her, hearing her, is quickly turning his brain to mush and he gladly gives up his ability to think clearly to just enjoy her filling his senses.

He finally gets one of her legs free of a shoe and a pant leg when Beast strikes after being dormant for the past two months, catching Hank completely by surprise. Her panties are torn from her body just before she's lifted up into his arms, pushed against the door and his very hard length is slammed up into her incredibly wet heat. All she can do is hold onto him as best she can while he starts to pound into her like the wild animal he's become.

It's easy enough to encircle his neck with her arms, but one of her legs still has a shoe and a pair of wet jeans hanging off of the foot making it hard to keep the leg up. Just as it starts to slip, he grabs it and holds it in place, never slowing his frantic movements while he does. She leans her head against his, whimpering and moaning with pleasure as he continues to fill her completely.

She doesn't care that he's squishing her against the cold, hard door or the fact that his grip on her legs will probably leave marks or that he's dripping wet. All she cares about is that he's come back to her and that he still wants her. She lets the feelings sweep her away as she freely gives herself to him and does her best to give him what he needs.

The intensity of this coupling is more powerful than ever before, but what little part of her brain is still working rationally just puts it down to them being apart for so long. She grip tightens as she feels the familiar ball of fire building up in her belly and her cries hit a fevered pitch. A moment later she's nearly screaming her release and only his roar drowns her out as he finds his own completion.

After standing there for a few moments, he staggers back a few steps and then nearly falls to his knees, never relinquishing his hold on her. She wraps her arms around his head, knowing what's going to happen next and not caring one bit that his fur is still sopping wet and soaking into her blouse and bra. A second later he takes a deep breath and his entire body shudders as Hank gets back control of his body.

"Amanda," he moans in anguish.

"You know what one of the great things about having you as a lover is?" she softly asks as she presses her face into his wet mane.

"What?" he groans, silently berating himself for letting Beast get control again.

"I get two lovers for the price of one," she tells him and he pulls back enough to scowl at her, but she doesn't shy away from him. "I love the way you make love to me. You always make sure that I'm completely satisfied before you finish and you're always so gentle. But there's something about the way Beast takes me that satisfies some deep dark desires that I never even knew I had until he came along. Don't beat yourself up over not being able to control him all of the time. Underneath all of that fur, you're still just a man and nobody's perfect."

He continues to stare at her, but she returns his gaze measure for measure and after several seconds he drops his head onto her shoulder with a sigh.

"How did I get so lucky to have you come into my life?" he quietly questions and she softly kisses his neck.

"I think I'm the lucky one," she whispers as she tries to suppress a shiver.

"Come, we should get dried off," he says as he lifts her off of his lap and sets her on her feet. "It is good to see you again."

"Give me a minute and you can see all of me," she teases with a suggestive leer as she starts to strip her wet clothes off.

He chuckles as he reaches for his now flaccid member and his heart nearly stops dead in his chest.

"Oh my stars and garters, no," he gasps.

_Cubs,_ Beast states smugly.

"What's the matter?" she inquires as she struggles to get her remaining shoe off.

"Amanda, I love you," he states forcefully as he leaps to his feet.

"I love you, too," she replies, startled as he takes her face in his hands.

"I want you to know I will be the best husband and father that I can possibly be," he claims firmly and then kisses her soundly.

"Oookay," she stammers when he lets her up for air. "What brought this on?"

"You'll want for nothing, I promise you," he tells her as he quickly goes over to his coat and picks up off of the floor. "You can stay home and be a house wife and a stay at home mom or you can continue to work if you like. You can even start your own firm if you want. I know you worked hard for what you've got, so I don't want you to feel pressured to do one thing or the other. We can hire a nanny and a maid if need be."

"Hank, what's going on?" she asks, getting a bit freaked out by his behavior.

"My apartment is bigger, so you should probably move in with me," he continues as if he didn't hear her. "I'll convert my work room into a nursery or better yet, we'll buy a house out in the country and I can have my work room and the baby can have his or her own room."

"HANK!" she yells, on the verge of flipping out. "What the Hell is going on? What baby?"

"Well, granted you don't smell like you're ovulating right now, but since it's been two months since the last time I was around you when you ovulated, you should be going into your cycle soon or maybe it's just past," he explains quickly as he rummages through the pockets of his coat. "While I can't guarantee that you will get pregnant, there's probably a good chance of it still. Not to be boastful, but I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if my sperm were stronger and faster than your average semen."

"Why do you think I'm going to get pregnant?" she questions as she grabs his coat and forces him to look at her.

"Haven't you been listening to me?" he nearly demands.

"I've been listening, but you haven't been making a whole lot of sense," she answers. "Now please answer my question. Why do you think I'm going to get pregnant?"

"We've just had unprotected intercourse!" he almost yells, mentally berating himself once again for letting the Beast get control.

"I thought I told you that I went and saw my OB/GYN shortly after you left," she says in confusion.

"Yes, I believe you mentioned something about that," he mumbles, clearly embarrassed.

"Are you blushing?" she asks, trying hard not to snicker. "You're a doctor for Heaven's sake."

"Yes, well, it's one thing if a woman you don't know goes in to the gynecologist, but when it's the woman you love having another man poking around down there is rather upsetting," he mutters while she pulls his coat out of his hands and then hangs it up.

"First of all, my doctor is a woman," she states as she takes his hands in hers. "Secondly, I went to see her for more than just my PAP smear."

Before he can ask her for clarification, she takes on of his hands and places it on her backside. He immediately can feel a strange little anomaly there and he turns her slightly to see it better. The small square patch is almost the same color as her skin and is only a few inches across.

"I know that's not a nicotine patch," he says carefully, looking back up at her face.

"It's a birth control patch," she tells him with a smile. "I changed it this morning, so..."

"It's very unlikely that you're going to get pregnant," he finishes with a sighs with relief.

_NO! _Beast shrieks angrily. _WANT CUBS!_

"Beast isn't too happy though," he chuckles.

"Beast is just going to have to learn to deal with it," she retorts. "I don't want to rush into a marriage because we were careless and I'd rather plan any kids that I might have, if it's all the same to you."

"You won't get any arguments from me," he purrs as he pulls her into his arms and then kisses her lovingly.

"What are you planning, Ambassador?" she questions, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I am planning on getting dried off," he answers just before kissing the tip of her nose. "And when when I'm no longer a threat to the bedding, I'm going to make love to you so thoroughly, you won't be able to walk straight tomorrow."

"My hair dryer is under the sink," she tells him breathlessly.

He gives her another mind searing kiss and then leans her against the wall before heading off to the bathroom. She stands there for at least a minute catching her breath and it's not until she hears her dryer going that she looks up at the ceiling.

"Thank you, God," she says in all sincerity before going off to pick up the wet clothes off of the floor.


	78. The Day After

**Author's Notes I:** I'm so sorry about the wait. I have no excuses other than my muse is being stubborn. For those who are interested, you can find 2 extra smut chapters over on the adult fan fiction site, the link is on my author's page. As always, a big thank you toLilyHellsing, theNightEnchantress, kudokuchan69, Descia, dandysgirl103, Jinx of the 2nd Law, Takerslady, no name, mrivera13, GabrielsDoubt, Darkness Maiden of Avalon and Nocturnal Rose.

* * *

"Are you sure?" he asks for what feels like the hundredth time.

"Yes, Hank, I'm sure," she answers as she puts the finishing touches on her makeup. "Mr. Jones has a meeting with a client this morning and another one this afternoon and since I'm the one who's done the research, I have to be there too."

"So, not even a dire emergency will get you out of going to work," he sighs while he picks up her necklace from it's spot on the dresser.

"A horny boyfriend does not count as a dire emergency," she snickers as she puts the cap back on her lipstick.

"More lonely than horny," he huffily responds, but she's not buying it.

"And these bags under my eyes are proof how _lonely_ you were last night," she retorts with a knowing smirk.

"At least they're well earned," he purrs as he comes up behind her to put her necklace on her. "And if memory serves me correctly, _you_ were the one showing me how _lonely_ you were around two this morning and again around five on the couch."

"Lonely my fat aunt Gracie," she snorts while he fastens the clasp. "I was horny. And if you had stayed in bed where you belonged, I wouldn't have had to come find you hiding out on the couch."

"So I surmised," he chuckles just before leans over and kisses the back of her neck. "I'm still a bit on Australia time, so my sleeping pattern may be off for a day or two."

"Stop that," she orders with a moan as goosebumps form on her skin, a shiver runs down her spine and her nipples get hard all from that one little display of affection. "I'm late enough as it is."

"I wouldn't mind driving you," he tells her.

"And you're car is where?" she questions as she turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Back at my apartment building," he sighs in defeat.

"It's just as well," she replies as she slips past him so she can get out of her bedroom. "I doubt I'd be able to keep my hands off of you and I'd probably look like I just crawled out of bed by the time I got out of the car. That's provided we didn't crash first. Not really the best way to arrive at work right before a meeting with a client."

Temporarily defeated, he follows her out of the room and takes up a position near the front door. He silently watches her as she gathers the last of her things, wishing he could do more with that lovely neck that's exposed with her hair up the way it is.

_Mate?_ Beast whines.

_Mate has to go to work,_ Hank replies patiently.

_Want Mate,_ Beast demands.

_We'll be with Mate tonight,_ Hank patiently points out.

"Damn!"

"Is something the matter, my dear?" he asks, moving towards her when he notices the look of panic on her face.

"It's later than I thought!" she cries out worriedly.

She dashes about, grabbing the last of her things and he wisely stays out of her way as she goes whizzing by. A few minutes later and they're standing in the hallway as she hastily locks her door. He patiently waits for her to finish, idly fingering the spare key in his pocket as he does. Just as they're heading towards the elevator, the apartment door next to Amanda's opens and a motherly looking woman with gray streaks marking her dark hair steps into the corridor.

"Uh-oh," Amanda mutters under her breath and Hank looks at her questioningly.

"Good morning, Amanda," the other woman cheerfully greets once she sees them.

"Morning, Rowan," Amanda replies with a slightly forced smile on her face. "Hank, this is my neighbor Rowan Torres. Rowan, this is Hank McCoy."

"A pleasure, Ms Torres," Hank says as he reaches out to shake the woman's hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ambassador," Rowan responds with a grin. "Though from the sounds of it, you two were getting plenty of pleasuring last night _and_ this morning."

"Excuse me?" he asks, eyebrows raising and never seeing the mortified look on Amanda's face, but he does hear the soft strangled whimper she makes.

"From the amount of screaming and roaring going on last night, I'm guessing there was lots and lots of pleasuring going on," Rowan continues, her grin hitting the thousand watt setting.

"It was the TV?" Amanda meekly tries to explain.

"Right, the TV was rhythmically shaking your front door while screaming 'Oh my God, yes'. Repeatedly," Rowan jovially counters, barely containing her laughter. "By the way, the Sweets were wondering when you got a pet lion and want to know why you're keeping it in your bathroom. The O'Donnell's hope that the next time you want to play cowboy, you won't do it at two-something AM. Jeri was sure the ceiling was going to cave in the way you two were making that bed buck Oh, and Willow would like to remind you that not everyone gets up at four-fucking-fifty-six in the morning."

"Oh dear," Hank manages mumble, pretty sure at this point someone could fry on egg on his face.

"Oh God," Amanda quietly moans.

"Well, I must toddle along now," Rowan happily states as she slips past them. "It was nice meeting you, Ambassador. Have a good day, kids."

Rowan cheerfully waves to them and then disappears through another apartment door just past Amanda's.

"Please tell me my makeup is hiding the red," she begs as soon as Rowan's door is shut.

"I'm afraid not," he tells her, completely mortified himself. "At least mine is easily hidden."

"Don't bet on it," she retorts as she turns and makes her way to the elevator. "You're face is purple."

"Oh dear," he repeats as he follows her.

"I'm going to have to move," she states as the elevator doors open for them.

"I have plenty of room at my place," he suggests while they step into the small compartment and he pushes the button for the first floor.

"To another planet," she continues as if he hadn't spoken.

"That's not possible," he chuckles and gently pulls her into his arms.

"Says you," she grumbles while she carefully rests her head on his shoulder and his arms encircle her waist. "I'm never going to be able to show my face here again."

"It's not that bad," he tries to assure her.

"Not that bad!?" she demands, looking up at him with wide green eyes. "I live next door to the building gossip. The only reason she didn't have a report from the people above me is because they're in California for their daughter's wedding! I wouldn't be surprised if it was on the evening news tonight complete with sound clips of what we were doing!"

"I love you," he says as he holds her closer. "We'll just have to remember that we're no longer in the woods where the only ones who can hear us are not capable of human speech."

"Now we just have to worry about the police pounding my door wondering where I'm hiding my pet lion," she grumbles, feeling the elevator coming to a stop.

"Obviously you're keeping him in the bathroom," he replies with a smile on lips, trying to hold back the laughter.

"This isn't funny," she growls, her eyes narrowing at him as the door open.

Reluctantly, he releases her and she leads him over to the doorman, a much younger gentleman than the night before. Amanda leaves both written and verbal instructions to him that Hank is to be given free access to her apartment for the day. The man simply nods and while the man doesn't say anything, Hank can see the man doesn't approve of him by the set of his mouth and the slight narrowing of his eyes when he looks at the mutant.

"Oh, and one other thing," she states in a deceptively pleasant tone that has Hank slightly worried.

"Yes?" the young man questions with the slightest touch of resentment in his voice.

"If the Ambassador encounters any problems from either you or the other doormen because you didn't pass my wishes onto them, you will be looking for another job," she states with that same cheery note. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," he snarls back.

"Good," she cheerfully replies with a smile, but Hank can see the hard glint in her eyes.

Before he can say anything, she turns on her heel and stalks out the front door. Without bothering to spare the other man a glance, he quickly follows his lady out the door. He easily catches up with her as she storms the best she can down the overcrowded sidewalk.

"Was that really necessary?" he asks as he falls into step beside her.

"Trust me when I tell you that there's no love lost between that snot nosed brat and myself," she nearly growls.

"'Snot nosed brat'?" he questions, a bit amused that she would use such a term.

"He's a college kid and more than once I've caught him sleeping on the job," she tells him, still clearly upset. "Did you see the pin on his lapel?"

"The one of the FOH fist?" he asks.

"That's the one," she replies. "Don't let him give you any guff. If he does give you any problems, call me and I'll give the building manager hell. He's a mutant hater too, but he doesn't dare tick off the US Ambassador to the UN."

_Or the president's pet mutant,_ Hank bitterly thinks to himself.

_No one's pet,_ Beast hisses back and Hank barely manages to suppress a smile.

"Might I ask you why Rowan went out one apartment door and went in another?" he asks as they make their way down the street.

"That was the Sweet's apartment she came out of and the one she went in was her own," she answers, using her longer legs to get past a group of shorter women. "She was probably in there getting the latest gossip."

"Who's Willow?" he questions, easily keeping up with her.

"Willow is Rowan's partner...wife...significant other...," she replies, trying to come up a good term.

"Ah, I see," he replies as they cross 2nd Ave., barely making the light.

He diligently follows along as she continues her headlong flight down the street. She weaves her way around people, almost as if it's a dance and he gets the distinct impression that she probably does this every day. A while later they're turning onto Lexington and almost come to a complete standstill.

"What's going on?" she asks, sounding a bit distressed and he stands on his tiptoes to see over the crowd.

"It appears that there's some construction going on ahead and it's partially blocking the sidewalk," he tells her, coming back down onto his heels.

"I'm never going to make my train at this rate," she moans, clearly upset.

"Fear not, my lady," he says as he takes her hand in his. "You're knight in shining blue fur is here to save the day...or at least the commute."

Before she can ask him what he has planned, he heads off into the crowd. He slips between the closely packed people, like a giant blue river otter navigating a strong current. With many 'excuse me's and 'pardon's uttered along the way, he pulls her along in his wake, making amazingly good time.

"You're amazing," she laughs as soon as they're past the traffic jam of people.

"I do try," he replies with a grin.

With a chuckle, she shakes her head and continues on her journey. He gladly walks with her, refusing to relinquish her hand, not that she's tried to pull away. With a sigh of contentment, he happily walks beside her, knowing that there's no one else he would want to walk through rush hour with.

All too soon they're at the entrance to the subway station that she needs. Before he can think of a proper way to say goodbye, she gives him a quick kiss on the lips, a whispered 'I love you' and then she's gone. He's a bit disappointed by the brevity of their parting, but a quick glance at his watch and he realizes that she's barely going to get to the platform on time.

With a sad sigh, he turns his steps towards his own apartment building to retrieve the tools he'll need to fix her rather abused bathroom.

* * *

She comes trudging up the subway steps with the rest of the commuters so tired she barely notices the people jostling past her. She gives a sigh of relief when she finally reaches street level and she starts the last leg of her journey home. She's damn tired and a good chunk of her exhaustion can be blamed on a certain blue Beast. A crooked smile stretches her lips as she thinks about their activities the night before and she starts getting a tingling feeling between her legs.

"Now I have _got_ to wonder why you are smiling," a sexy voice purrs just behind her ear and she practically groans as that magical spot gets even warmer.

"As if you didn't know," she moans while she feels her briefcase being gently removed from her person.

"So how was your day at work?" he asks congenially as he walks beside her, offering her his arm which she gladly takes

"If you consider being subjected to abject humiliation all day good, than I had a great day," she huffs as she leans her head on his shoulder.

"Oh?" he queries, barely contained amusement in his voice.

"As if the little meeting with Rowen this morning wasn't bad enough, I swear everyone on the train knew what we were doing last night since they wouldn't stop giving me funny looks," she starts while they continue to make their way down the street. "Then I walked into the office this morning and I didn't even get a word out before Betty takes one look at me and goes running back towards the offices screaming 'Hank's home!' over and over again. This was then followed by cheering, whistling and a _really_ bad rendition of the Hallelujah chorus. Even Mr. Steele had to add his two cents in with an 'it's about damn time'. Oh, and did I mention that Mr. Jones had to tell both clients we had meetings with today that you came home last night. While he never actually came out and said that we were bopping like bunnies, the clients sure got that impression. Of course, no day would be complete without a call from dear Dougie demanding explicit details of our activities last night."

He can't help but chuckle and she stops dead in her tracks which causes him to turn and face the glare she's giving him.

"It's not funny," she pouts. "As if this morning's run in with Rowan wasn't bad enough, now this! I have to work with these people."

"I am sorry," he replies, a grin still firmly plastered to his face as he reaches up and caresses her face. "I'm sure if our roles had been reversed, I would be subjected to the same humiliation that you are."

"Yeah, right," she huffs as she crosses her arms over her chest. "You're Mr. Calm, Cool and Collected. And even if you did get a bit cranky, no one would dare make fun of you to your face. Hell, they probably wouldn't even do it behind your back since they'd be afraid that you'd hear them."

"You're right," he remorsefully responds as he pulls her into his arms, completely ignoring the stares and occasional grumbles from the other people walking by. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make light of your day."

She lets out a puff of frustration and then buries her face in his neck, letting his warm body and comforting scent relax her.

"Perhaps we should finish this discussion after we get home," he suggests as he resists the urge to nuzzle her hair.

"Discussion? What discussion?" she mumbles while she leans against him. "I'm taking a nap."

"It would be such a shame if you were to fall asleep and miss the lovely roast chicken I've made for dinner," he muses, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

"Roast chicken?" she queries, raising her head enough to look at his face.

"Yes, with baby carrots and roasted fingerling potatoes," he tells her and she drops her head back down on his shoulder with a groan.

"You fight dirty," she grumbles.

"I hardly call making dinner for my lady fighting dirty," he replies, teeth starting to show as his grin widens.

"Except that you know I love roasted chicken and I'd sell my sister for one," she huffs as she reluctantly steps out of his embrace. "I just hope I can stay awake long enough to actually eat it. I'll probably fall face first into the veggies."

"Then perhaps we should get moving," he softly assures her just before gently kissing her cheek. "Come, let's go home."

She nods her head and lets him steer her towards home, gladly letting him take control. They walk on in companionable silence with their arms around each other, studiously ignoring the stares, and in some cases out right glares, that more than a few people are giving them. She sighs contentedly and rests her head on his shoulder, never seeing the smile of pure delight on his face.

She's barely aware when he leads her inside of her apartment building and it's not until the smell of roasting potatoes and chicken reaches her that she rouses. She takes a deep breath and moans with pleasure, barely aware of him leaving her side. He helps her out of her coat and hangs it and her bags on the pegs next to the door.

"It smells wonderful," she tells him, turning to look at him.

"Hopefully, it will taste as good as it smells," he replies as he steps up to her.

"I've had your cooking, Hank," she reminds him. "The only way for something you cook to turn out bad is if you let me help."

"I find that hard to believe," he chuckles.

"Yet, you haven't put that theory to the test, have you?" she asks with a smile tugging at her lips. "You didn't let me help when we were at the cabin."

"That's because you were hurt," he points out as he slips his arms around her waist. "I was determined to pamper you as best I could so that you could heal."

"Yea, right," she snorts while her arms slide around his neck. "I've been pampered before and it didn't include you, me, a box of condoms, a tube of lube and various piece of furniture that your friend would probably burn if he knew what we were doing on them."

"He wouldn't burn them," he laughs. "Probably give them to some donation place as quickly as possible, perhaps have them professionally cleaned, but he probably wouldn't burn them."

"Ha! You said 'probably', so you don't know for certain," she gleefully retorts.

"I'd love to stand here and debate with you, but I had best go check on dinner," he chortles, reluctantly letting her go.

"Sure, run away when you know I'm right," she teases as he heads for the kitchen.

"Why don't you go get freshened up while I take care of dinner," he suggests, amusement still evident in his voice.

"Ah, now you're changing the subject," she counters, a grin firmly planted on her lips. "Just proves you know you can't win."

"Do you really wish to get into a debate with a politician?" he questions, looking back over his shoulder at her.

"Do you want to get into it with a lawyer?" she counter questions, her chin raised in defiance.

"Life with you will never be dull, my love," he snickers as he turns back towards the kitchen. "However, even politicians and lawyers need to eat. Why don't you go get freshened up or at least into something a bit more comfortable. I have it on the best authority that brassieres and pantyhose were created for the sole purpose of torturing women."

"You got that right," she grumbles as she reaches behind her to unfasten her bra through her blouse while she heads for the bathroom.

After turning on the burner under the carrots so they can cook and pulling the chicken out of the oven, he goes to check on her where he finds her standing in the doorway of the bathroom, staring into it.

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**A/N II:** A strange place to leave it, I know, but the chapter was getting waaaay too long.


	79. Dinner and Dancing

**Author's Notes I: ** Well, here it is, the last chapter. I thank all of my wonderful readers for sticking with me this far and for the new ones who had the guts to start reading a story that's nearly 80 chapters long.

* * *

"Is everything alright, my dear?" he inquires as he steps up behind her.

"You...you...," she stammers.

"I fixed it, as I said I would," he tells her. "Do you like it?"

"Yes, it's beautiful, but...but...," she quickly replies.

"But?" he prompts after a few moments of silence.

"But you only needed to fix the sink and the shower curtain," she says, still flummoxed by what she sees before her. "You didn't need to put in new linoleum or a toilet."

"The linoleum was old and it really was in need of replacing," he tells her before getting a chagrined look on his face. "As for the toilet...I'm afraid my less than graceful landing on it last night left it with a hairline crack that was slowly leaking. It had to be replaced."

"I should pay...," she starts.

"For nothing," he interrupts as his arms encircle her waist from behind, pulling her flush to his chest. "It's the least I could do after demolishing your bathroom. I would have painted the walls and re-caulked the bathtub as well, but I'm afraid I ran out of time."

"You don't need to paint or caulk anything," she insists, turning as best she can to look at him. "You've already done more than enough."

"I know I don't have to, but I wanted to," he replies as he looks at her with hope in his eyes. "I want to take care of you. Is that a bad thing?"

"No, of course not," she answers with a smile as she gently kisses him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome," he replies while he gives her a gentle squeeze. "Now finish getting freshened up while I go check on the chicken."

He reluctantly releases her and then gives her a gentle push into the bathroom. She doesn't resist and a moment later the bathroom door shuts behind her. Content that she's getting more comfortable, he heads back to the kitchen to finish making dinner.

A while later, he sets the food on the table, lights the candles and then turns on his iPod sitting in its little dock to give them some quiet dining music. Once everything is set, he goes looking for his lady and finds her in the bedroom staring at the bed.

"Is something the matter, my dear?" he asks, smirking to himself.

"Did we break the bed too?" she counters, looking back over her shoulder at him and noting the self satisfied look on his face.

"Sort of," he cheerfully answers as he slips an arm around her waist. "We bent the frame and cracked the box spring mattress. I could have reshaped the frame and replaced the box spring, but I thought this was a better solution."

"Hank, I don't have sheets for a bed this size," she points out, waving a hand towards the queen sized bed, ignoring the fact that it's already made.

"I've already taken care of the bedding," he assures her, pulling her closer to him. "There are two sets of bamboo sheets, perfect for winter or summer and enough blankets to keep you warm should I not be here to do it for you."

"Hank, I understand the toilet, but the bed...," she starts.

"It was my pleasure to do it," he purrs as he buries his nose into her hair, trying to keep his libido in check as thoughts of what pleasure may be happening in that bed later run through his head.

"I should pay for some of it," she says, trying not to think of the damage the cost of a new bed plus all the bedding will do to her checking account.

"Look at it as a belated Valentine's Day gift," he tells her as he pulls back enough to look at her face and places a finger over her lips opening in protest. "I refuse to take no for an answer and besides, dinner is on the table and is getting cold."

"I hope you weren't planning on testing the bed out tonight," she states as she heads for her dresser and he tries not to let his disappointment show.

"Why is that?" he asks keeping the disappointment out of his voice as she pulls a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt out of a couple drawers and tosses them onto the bed.

"Because I'm dead on my feet," she answers as she strips off her work clothes. "I'm not kidding about trying not to fall asleep during dinner."

"I certainly hope you don't fall asleep," he muses, watching her change clothes and only just managing to keep his libido and Beast in check. "I made a chocolate silk pie for dessert."

"You're evil, you know that?" she huffs as she pulls her clothes on.

"How am I evil?" he asks, not sure if he should be affronted or amused.

"You're going to kill my waist line," she grumbles. "All the good food you make and I can't help but eat until I'm ready to pop."

"You are more than welcome to prepare the meals if you like," he suggests, knowing full well that she never will.

"Looking to get food poisoning?" she queries with a raised eyebrow as she picks up her discarded clothing and tosses it into the hamper.

"Poor cooking skills are not likely to make a person sick," he muses, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Says the man who's never tried my cooking," she huffs after coming to stand in front of him. "Starving dogs wouldn't eat my cooking."

"Whether or not they would must be left for another day," he stats as he gently guides her out of the room. "Dinner is waiting."

She takes a deep sniff as soon as they step in to the living area and lets out a sound that's between a whimper and a moan. He grins at her response to just the tantalizing scent of dinner and then he goes to pull out her seat for her. She just manages not to collapse into the chair as her tired body just wants to stop having to bare its own weight.

Once he's sure she's properly situated, he takes his own seat and they both dig into the wonderful food spread before them. Between bites they talk about their day and what the next day will bring. The talk is quiet and relaxed with no hidden meanings in their words or their body language and he realizes that he could quite happily do this for the rest of his life with her.

Eventually dinner is done, dessert is eaten with many a moan of pure delight from her and then finally the dishes are washed, dried and put away. He's never encountered such domestic bliss and he never wants it to end. Acting like he's just brushing something off his pants, he makes sure the small precious object is still in his pocket and hopes that it will bring him his wish.

They finally exit the kitchen and she stops just outside the room she uses so little, looking a little less than stable.

"Is everything alright, my dear?" he asks, a bit concerned.

"I usually watch the news after dinner, but I'm not sure I even have the energy to fall down, much less turn on the TV," she confesses, the exhaustion evident in her voice.

"May I make a suggestion?" he queries.

"What?"

"Dance with me?"

She turns her bleary gaze upon him and stares at him like he's grown a second head.

"Hank, if I'm too tired to even watch TV, how the heck am I supposed to have the energy to dance?" she almost demands.

"You won't have to do anything," he assures her as he picks up the remote to his iPod, still quietly playing away. "Just let me hold you."

He turns up the volume enough that she can make out the words of the song and smiles as Matchbox 20's 'I can't let you go' fills the room.

"You trying to tell me something?" she teases as he slips the remote into his pocket.

"It was pure chance that this song is playing," he tells her while he pulls her into his arms.

She softly chuckles as she wraps her arms around his neck and then lays her head on his shoulder. He holds her close, buries his nose into her dark hair and then starts to gently sway. With a sigh that's part exhaustion and part contentment, she closes her eyes and thinks about how she could stay like this forever.

The small player continues through its list of love songs while they stand there, swaying from side to side. They say nothing as they gently move and he's fairly sure she's still awake since she's still upright. While she relaxes in his arms, his nerves and his primal self are starting to get him more wound up.

_Life mate,_ Beast whispers in his mind.

_Soon,_ Hank assures it.

_Now,_ Beast hisses back.

_The moment needs to be right,_ Hank insists.

_Right now,_ Beast growls and Hank can't help but roll his eyes.

The song on the player changes and he barely notices the first few notes playing. He moistens his suddenly dry mouth and then takes a deep breath. He lips part to ask her a very important question when he notices she's singing along with the song.

_Used to be that I believed in something  
Used to be that I believed in love  
It's been a long time since I've had that feeling  
I could love someone  
I could trust someone  
I said I'd never let nobody near my heart again darlin'  
I said I'd never let nobody in_

_But if you asked me to  
I just might change my mind  
And let you in my life forever  
If you asked me to  
I just might give my heart  
And stay here in your arms forever  
If you asked me to  
If you asked me to_

_Somehow ever since I've been around you  
Can't go back to being on my own  
Can't help feeling darling since I've found you  
That I've found my home  
That I'm finally home  
I said I'd never let nobody get too close to me darling  
I said I needed, needed to be free_

_(But if you asked me to...)_

_Asked me to, I will give my world to you baby  
I need you now  
Ask me to and I'll do anything for you baby, for you baby_

_If you asked me to  
I'd let you in my life forever  
If you asked me to... _

As the last notes slowly fade away, he takes the remote out of his pocket and stops the player. She slightly raises her head while he carefully pulls her arms free of his neck and then steps back. She looks at him in confusion and when he won't meet her eyes, she begins to worry.

"Hank, what's wrong?" she asks, feeling her heart starting to beat faster and waking her up a bit.

He doesn't answer at first as he tosses the remote onto the couch and then takes her hands into each of his. He briefly marvels at the size difference and how she allows him to touch her. He kisses the back of each of those lovely, unadorned appendages and only then does he still his nerves and impatient Beast.

"I need to keep a promise," he tells her, still not meeting her eyes.

"What promise?" she questions in complete confusion.

Instead of responding, he lowers himself down onto one knee and he relinquishes one of her hands so that he can reach into his pocket. His actions confuse her for a bit until she notices him down on that one knee and then the adrenaline hits her system like a freight train. Suddenly, she's not tired any more.

"Amanda, I love you more than I can adequately put into words," he starts, finally looking up at her as he withdraws his hand from his pocket, his fingers firmly, but gently clutching a small item. "But know this, I will do everything within my power to make you happy and to give you whatever you could possibly want or desire. I have only one favor to ask of you."

With great reluctance he releases her other hand and brings up the hand that's clutching something. Her heart hammers against her ribs and she's not sure when she last took a breath, not that she could get her lungs to work even if she wanted to. With great care, Hank opens his closed hand and reveals a small velvet box. She lets out a small squeak that quite possibly only dogs can hear and watches as he opens the small box with trembling fingers to reveal quite possibly the largest diamond she's ever seen in her life.

"Would you do me the honor of letting me be your husband?"

_Fini_

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own the rights to 'If you asked me to' or 'I can't let you go'.

**Author's Notes II:** Fear not, gentle readers, my muse is already spinning ideas for the next story in my head and hopefully we'll get that one going soon. Keep your eyes peeled for "Eye for an Eye".


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